Storm of the Goddesses
by Littoria
Summary: The story of the Ocarina of Time was only half complete. When the Hero of Time was struck down, the rulers of Fate intervened... but the price to pay was greater than they could ever know.
1. Incomplete Legend

Quick Author's note: Nintendo owns everything except several invented names. If this story seems familiar, that is because it is a revamp of a story from my old account many years ago. I'm aware it starts a bit slowly, but exposition is necessary, trust me. This story is rated T, mostly for violence. It should probably be rated M, but I'm a softie. I warned you.

* * *

The Legend of Zelda: Storm of the Goddesses

* * *

The goddesses never left the land they created. This was the first thing the legend misrepresented. They retreated to the heavens to watch the land grow and the people change, and they felt every alteration made to the fabric of time. They felt pain when the Sacred Realm was ripped open, screamed as the land was tortured and burned, and wept as the people were destroyed. Din lost control over the earth, and the volcanoes began raining fire. As the people were twisted by war, Nayru's wisdom was lost. But Farore's courage held strong in the hearts of the pure.

One of these pure, a mere boy at the war's outbreak, was marked as the Hero. Trapped for seven years, he slept. The goddesses protected the Hero, and gave him what power they could. When he awoke, all he had come to love was changed. Faced with the end of days, the Hero, still barely more than a boy, rose to lead the fight for Hyrule.

If he had a real name, none knew it.

He was simply called Link.

* * *

King of Thieves, a phrase which could harbor no positive meaning, was the title Ganondorf had attached to himself. Indeed, he had stolen the land itself away from its rightful keepers. He had bereft the people of their king, ripped away his palace, and built a new fortress over the ruins. The land was newly populated with his demons and Gerudo pawns. His desire for absolute rule was almost fulfilled.

The man sat on a throne of twisted metal and bone, a regal cape draping down around his armored legs. He tapped a dark-skinned finger against the arm of the throne. His red eyes flashed anger at the news before him.

"This means nothing," he barked, interrupting the young woman, "unless you can tell me where they're hiding."

The Gerudo took a slight step back, "No, my king. We do not know."

"Then what use are you?" he waved a hand brusquely and the woman bowed, backing out of the throne room.

Ganondorf sat back, staring at the far wall. He spun a jeweled ring around a finger. The firelight moved shadows around the circular room, and the dark-tapestried walls seemed to release a sigh of moisture. Sensing a presence behind him, he leaned his head toward it.

"You heard that?" he asked.

"Yes," came the silky answer.

"Damn them," he knocked a fist against the throne, "I can't find them."

"I encountered our mysterious friend again."

"And?"

The woman stepped closer, stopping beside the throne, "He's certainly fast enough. I think he really is Sheikah."

Ganondorf breathed laughter into his fist, "So Impa had a child?"

"Maybe."

He laughed fully and turned to look at the woman, "And the _boy _escaped you again?"

"The boy," she echoed in disgust, red hair swishing, "I assume you mean the one they call the Hero."

"Of course."

"Yes, he escaped. I lost eight women."

Ganondorf laughed again, "Come, pet. They are nothing to me. I care about the boy. Where did he go?"

She shifted weight, "We tracked him toward the fields, then lost him. He may have used magic."

"I have an idea where he's going."

"Do you?"

"You said there was a fairy with him."

"Yes."

The man smiled, "you also said you injured it."

"One of the guards thinks she shot the thing. The boy reacted, in any case."

Ganondorf stood up, moved by the thought. He stepped onto the landing beneath the throne, pausing.

"He'll go to Death Mountain. The Great Fairy is the only one who could heal the creature."

The woman chuckled.

"I'm sending three of your fighters," said Ganondorf curtly, "and I'm going on a separate, personal errand. You and your detail will keep the palace while I'm away."

"Yes, my lord."

He walked toward the ornate doorway, boots clacking on the black marble floor. He ran a hand over his red hair, stopping just before he touched the door handle.

He turned slightly, "And, Nabooru?"

A pause.

"Yes, my lord."

His tone dropped, "Do _not _lose the boy again."

"No, my lord."

* * *

The Princess Zelda had disappeared.

More accurately, she had disappeared into hiding, kept safe by her guardian and the remainder of her loyal subjects.

The day the palace fell, the princess saw her life crumble. She watched as the Gerudo King ran her father through with a sword, she stumbled past the dead bodies of her maidservants, and was carried over the river of blood by her protector. She saw the boy from the forest as she rode away, and threw to him the last sacred relic.

She would not see him again for seven years.

And when she did see him, it was from afar, or disguised as a man.

Impa, her loyal protector, had taught her to use her magic to change her shape. Years of practice and training had perfected the illusion. None but Impa knew the truth, that the young man claiming to be the last Sheikah and the lost princess were one and the same.

In this disguise, the princess discussed a plan of action with Impa.

They leaned against the wooden railing of a balcony extending from a safehouse in Kakariko Village. The sun, low in the sky, cast golden shades over the lazy buildings, the general quiet of the day falling into silence as night approached.

"He's headed this way," sighed the young man, "and he'll go through the village."

"To the mountain?" Impa asked, brushing away silver tendrils of hair.

Sheik nodded, adjusting a wristguard.

"Why?"

"His fairy was hurt. The Great Fairy can heal her."

"No healing potion would suffice?"

"Apparently not."

Impa shrugged, "I have a bad feeling."

"You always say that," Sheik turned around, back against the railing, "because nothing good has happened in years."

"Well..."

"I'll follow him, if it makes you feel any better."

"Worse, in fact," Impa looked at the man, "I'd rather we not play games, princess."

"_Hush_."

"There is no one around. Your life is every bit as important as his."

Sheik regarded the setting sun, looking away when the yellow light became too strong. Gold hair covered the young man's eyes, and a short scarf hid his nose and mouth, wrapping around his head. Not that it mattered. No one would have noticed anything but a strong resemblance to the princess in his features.

"Impa..." he mumbled, "I've forgotten who I am."

"Who you are..." Impa took his hand and pulled away a strip of cloth to reveal the mark of the Triforce, "... is this."

"Thanks..."

"And this," Impa touched the man's chest over his heart, "in which you are the princess."

"I wish I weren't."

"What?" the Sheikah woman's body gave a small start.

He shook his head, "In this disguise, I can use the anger, the hatred... I can turn it into power and focus, you taught me how. But as myself, I just... I can't get past the sadness."

"Child..." Impa touched her ward's shoulder.

A knock on the door behind them interrupted the quiet moment. Impa opened the wooden door, and the elderly shopkeeper leaned out of the doorway.

"You said to tell you," he rasped, "if any newcomers were to wander in. There's a man down there."

"Thank you," Impa said.

The shopkeeper nodded and glanced between the woman and the young man, then closed the door on himself.

"Zelda?" Impa's voice was quiet.

"Bye," came the answer.

Sheik vaulted the railing and sailed through the air, landing on all fours far below and rolling to a stop outside the chicken pen. A twinge of magic and he was gone.

Impa stared at the space for a moment, then turned and retreated into the shop. She had little to do but wait and hope for more miracles. She wondered if perhaps there were some things miracles could not help.

* * *

Ordinarily, he garnered no attention from those he passed. Anyone inclined to notice a new face might think that his was handsome, and that his gait was confident. But as he stumbled through the gate of Kakariko Village, the Hero stood out vividly.

The young man was obviously exhausted, but no one moved to help him. No one moved at all, but stared at the fury in his eyes. His clothing was tattered, and one arm was held tightly to his body. As he passed the curious villagers, climbing the stone steps leading to Death Mountain's base, he pulled free a sword from the scabbard on his back.

As he reached the abandoned checkpoint, a voice called out.

"You there, lad!"

He turned. A man with greying hair took a few steps forward, gesturing toward the volcano.

"You're mad if you go up there," the man said earnestly, "there's monsters on that trail!"

Link regarded the outsider with an even gaze. Several people began to whisper, pointing at the young man's torn shirt and disheveled hair.

"I've seen worse," Link answered, and turned away.

"You're daft, lad!" the man yelled after him.

Link ignored this and walked forward, glancing up the height of the mountain and hoping he could make it. His eyes darted to his left hand, cradled against his chest. In his palm lay a tiny figure, a shivering fairy with a missing wing.

"Hang on, Navi," he whispered to her.

She didn't reply.

Link pushed his dirty, gold hair away from his face and focused on the trail, trying to keep his senses sharp.

By nightfall, he'd reached Great Fairy's abode. Why she'd chosen to live by the top of an active volcano, only the goddesses knew. Link cursed her judgement in vulgar phrases as he fell against the wall of stone. He brushed his ear against a sharp rock, his movements made clumsy by the heat and several newly acquired wounds. He looked at Navi again.

Her glow had faded to a faint glimmer of light, the remainder of her tattered wing leaving a jagged bloodstain on Link's leather gauntlet. She gave no sign of movement.

He pushed himself away from the wall and willed his feet to carry him through the doorway. He stopped short just inside, legs giving out. Falling to his knees, he tried to keep the hand holding Navi straight. His other hand spread on the floor and supported him as he tried to regain balance.

The fountain, a moment away, gleamed at him from a distance which seemed to elongate itself before his eyes. He had no magic left to empower himself, he'd used it to cross the country. His strength was gone, and there were only a few yards between his hand and his goal.

"Please..." he urged his body forward, but his vision trembled and darkened swiftly. He fell to one side, plunged into blackness, mumbling protests against his weakness.

A figure in the doorway walked silently toward the Hero.

Zelda, disguised, knelt beside Link and gently lifted the fairy from his outstretched hand. She moved swiftly to the fountain and placed the small body beside the water. Her hand moved rapidly through the air, summoning a lyre. A few notes of the royal lullaby rang and echoed in the round cavern.

With a burst of magic, the Great Fairy appeared above the fountain's center. Her pink hair flowed of its own accord, her flawless face and glowing body standing out against the gentle blue-white of the marbled cavern. She regarded the visitor, the unconscious man far behind, and the little body before her. Then she laughed loudly.

"Little Sheikah boy," she giggled, leaning over the forest fairy, "your friends have the worst luck."

"Can you heal her?" Zelda asked bluntly.

"Well, of course," the Great Fairy smiled coyly, "why else am I here?"

Zelda resisted voicing an obscene insult, "Will you? Please."

The Great Fairy winked and held a hand over Navi's still frame. At the edge of the ripped wing, the bleeding flesh glowed and began to knit, then extended, the glow multiplying to form the shape of a full wing. The light spread through the fairy's body, then faded suddenly.

The Great Fairy pulled back, "There. She'll wake in a moment."

"Thank you."

"And him?" The Great Fairy pointed a sharp finger toward Link, "He's a familiar face. Shall I heal him, too?"

"If you would..." Zelda trailed off, seeing Navi stir.

The forest fairy shook, bright blue glow rapidly returning until her body's outline was lost in the flare.

"Link?" came her high-pitched voice.

Navi floated upwards to hover before Sheik's face, "You!"

Zelda said nothing, unable to deny herself a hidden smile. The fairy flew over the princess' shoulder and darted back and forth over Link's body.

"Link?" she circled, "Link! Wake up! Get up---"

She broke off in a gasp, landing on the ground.

"I... I can fly?" she paused, apparently realizing her surroundings.

The Great Fairy laughed again, "I healed you, little one!"

"Thank you," Navi flew closer to the fountain, "but what about Link? Is he hurt badly? I don't remember anything after---"

"He's passed out," Sheik said, walking back over to the Hero, "but he isn't dying."

"Thank goodness."

Sheik slid strong arms under Link's shoulders and lifted him partially, dragging him over to the fountain. He squatted beside the Hero's limp body.

The peace in the young man's face was a rare sight. Sheik, giving in to the impulse to brush the golden wisps away from Link's closed eyes, wondered when there would be no more need for disguises.

"My, my," purred the Great Fairy.

"Heal him," Sheik snapped harshly, standing.

The Great Fairy raised her arms and the light of the fountain rushed to the Hero's tired body.

In the radiant, healing light, Sheik slipped away.

After a prolonged moment, the light faded, and the Hero awoke on the pedestal before the fountain. He sat up quickly.

"Navi?" he asked, but she was already floating before him. He stared at her, then looked at the fountain. The Great Fairy was gone.

"She healed us, Link," Navi said unnecessarily.

"How did..." he flexed his arm, "I didn't..."

"Sheik saved us."

"...Sheik?"

Link glanced around the cavern, already knowing the man was gone. He pushed himself up and stood, feeling completely aware for the first time in weeks.

"Thanks," he waved to the fountain.

"Let's go," Navi urged, "we need to find a place to stay."

Link turned and stepped off the pedestal, "I was thinking outside."

"That could be dangerous," she followed him down the short hall leading outdoors, "Ganondorf's spies are everywhere, what if they see us?"

"Well, Navi," he tried to keep the teasing edge from his voice, "if they didn't see us on the way up, we might as well stay."

"I'm not sleeping in your smelly hat again!"

"I lost the hat anyways," he sighed, settling back into the routine banter.

"We need a second plan, I say we go down to..."

Link allowed himself to stop listening to his friend and think over the mystery of Sheik, the abandoning savior.


	2. Strange Territory

Zelda slid down a steep slope and jogged to a halt on the flat landing. She paused to observe the cloudy sky, which still clung to the remnants of sunlight along the fringe of the horizon. A deep breath in and a release through the mouth of a stranger gave air to the princess' lungs. She twitched alien fingers.

She'd come too close for a moment. She had begun to forget whose body she was in; she'd let passion overcome her mind and instinct lead her hands.

What was worse, she'd done it in front of the fairy. No doubt Link would hear of Sheik's bizarre behavior. Too many mistakes, this was the last thing Zelda needed.

A whirring noise caught her thoughts and pulled her head in the direction of the sound.

She ducked blindly.

An arrow zoomed past her face, her hair whipped back by the wind off the fletch.

She ducked lower, listening for the next shot. She rolled to the side as an arrow flew to her right, burying itself in the hard dirt. Sprawled flat on the ground, Zelda could barely hear another arrow being clumsily notched by a novice.

Bracing her fingertips and toes, she propelled herself forward as the arrow was loosed. Her feet caught the angle of the ground as she began a full sprint in the direction of the attackers.

Arms crossed, tiny knives slid into her palms. She darted to the left, another arrow whizzed by. Her arm whipped forward and a knife flew silently toward the enemy.

A scream echoed, and Zelda changed direction.

She stopped short, moving back as her path was blocked by a Gerudo warrior. She whirled; another to her left. They were faster than she'd expected.

Both were armed with scimitars and various smaller blades. Zelda cursed silently and built a pulse of magic in her hands beneath her knives, wishing she'd armed herself properly.

"Sheikah," said one of the women, "you're going to die."

* * *

Link walked up a short hill of brown stone, taking in the cool night air. A week imprisoned in the desert had destroyed his tolerance for heat.

"...and no one'll look for us there," Navi was saying.

"... yes."

"Link? Are you listening to me at all?"

"No," he answered honestly, "Sorry."

The silence was ripped open by a shrill scream from below.

Without pausing to consider the possible situations awaiting him, Link rushed up the hill and stopped at the top, looking down over the scene.

At the bottom of the slope, Sheik stood in a guarded stance between two Gerudos. Link pulled his bow free from its strap and reached back for an arrow. He notched it and drew the string back, eyes trained on the taller of Gerudos.

"Sheikah," said one of the women, "you're going to die."

He released the arrow.

The impact hit the Gerudo's arm, and her sword flew to the ground as she cried out in pain. Sheik ducked away from the second attacker, flinging a throwing-knife at her and missing.

Link slid down the hill and rushed past Sheik, replacing his bow with his sword and charging at the uninjured Gerudo.

She threw herself at him, scimitar curving down over the Hero's head. His blade caught it and halted the attack, giving Link time to kick the woman in the side. She pulled back, but remained upright. Link faked to the left and leapt forward, his right hand closing around the Gerudo's throat.

She lost her grip on her sword as Link pushed her up against the rock wall of the mountain. He leveled his sword at her throat, just above his tense fingers.

Her hand made a quick movement and he dodged back, releasing the Gerudo. The knife in her hand swiped at the air, but caught the hilt of Link's sword. The sacred weapon went flying, landing point-first in the dirt.

Link judged the distance between himself and his enemy, reaching for a hookshot tucked beneath his shield.

The Gerudo lunged, but was jerked to the side as one of Sheik's knives slammed into her ribcage. She stumbled back, hand reaching futilely for the knife.

Pulling out the hookshot, Link aimed roughly and fired the weapon at the dying woman. The spearpoint punched through to her heart and retracted to its origin as the device rewound itself. The Gerudo fell, dead.

Link looked to Sheik, who was walking toward him.

"A bit gratuitous," Sheik said, a trace of amusement in his voice.

"I didn't want her to suffer," Link was unsure if he was telling the truth.

Sheik reached Link's side and stood there, panting. The body of Sheik's opponent was visible over the man's shoulder.

"Well," Link smiled, "Does that make us square?"

Sheik glanced at Navi, who flew to Link's shoulder and hovered there. Link waited for a response. The one he got was unexpected.

With a rush of motion, Sheik grabbed Link by the arms and thrust him down to the ground. Link tried to fight back as a bright glowing shape careened into Sheik's side, sending him flying backwards.

Link turned quickly on the ground, seeing another Gerudo running at him. She threw aside a bow and drew a long knife, one of her legs bleeding deep crimson through her red pants.

With a guttural shout, Link rolled away from her attack, her blade just missing his head. He kicked at her, his foot making contact with her wounded leg. She screamed and buckled, landing beside him.

Link realized belatedly that his hookshot was still in his hand. Improvising, he ducked away from the Gerudo and swung the thing mightily at her head.

There was a cracking noise at the impact, and the woman fell lifeless to the ground. Link kicked away her knife and leaned forward, checking her for a pulse. None.

"Sheik?" he asked the air, turning.

A loud groan from several yards away was his answer. He followed the sound and saw Sheik lying on the ground in front of a jagged boulder. Link thrust himself to his feet and jogged over, Navi flitting ahead of him. As he neared the Sheikah, he realized the glowing shape had been an arrow, which was now lodged firmly in the flesh above Sheik's right hip.

"By the goddesses," Link swore, kneeling.

The arrow had gone clean through Sheik's body, but was so far to the right that it was doubtful it had hit anything vital. Sheik's left shoulder, however, was in ugly shape.

"How did---" Link began, but Sheik cut him off.

"The arrow..." Sheik breathed heavily against the pain, "tipped with magic... The force threw me against this rock."

Over his shoulder, the blue and white cloth of his shirt and scarf had been ripped away, along with much of his skin. The joint was clearly dislocated, and what skin was intact was bruising a deep purple. In the fading light, Link could barely make out Sheik's face, but saw a glint beneath the man's eyes that Link could only assume was the beginning of tears.

Sheik braced his useable hand against the ground and tried to push himself up, but gasped in pain. His abdomen tensed against the wound in his side as Link's hand found it's way to his chest, pushing him back down.

"Navi," Link said, taking note of the eminent nightfall, "fly back to the Great Fairy and---"

He was interrupted by a rattling sound and a tremor through the ground. The rattling intensified to a loud roar, and Link's mind rushed with thoughts of the volcano erupting. A deafening boom echoed, the fiery light of an explosion emanating from above. But it was too close to be from the crater. The roar continued for a few moments more, then faded suddenly into the steady cackling sound of burning.

Link wondered wildly if something hadn't gone horribly wrong in the Goron's lair on the other side of the mountain.

"Link!" Navi hissed shrilly, "We were just up there!"

He looked up, a dark thought working it's way into his mind. Sheik stirred beneath his hand, causing the Hero to look down.

"Great Fairy..." Sheik managed.

Link looked to Navi, who wordlessly darted off, disappearing over the top of the slope to their left.

"You really think," Link surveyed Sheik's shoulder, "Ganondorf would kill her?"

"I think..." Sheik's head moved, "...he just did."

Link shivered, "Does he know we're here?"

"Probably."

"Link!"

The Hero glanced up to see his fairy rushing down to him.

"It's gone!" she moved back and forth in panic, "The Great Fairy's fountain, completely gone!"

Link opened his mouth to speak, but Sheik was faster.

"He won't... kill us now," said the Sheikah through gritted teeth, "because he needs me."

In utter shock, Link stared and waited for the man to explain,

"He needs me... to..." he groaned as he accidentally shifted his shoulder, "... to get to Zelda."

Link felt a sharp pull at his heart, "You know where Zelda is?"

"Yes."

"Is she alright?" he urged, "Is she safe?"

Sheik dragged his right hand across his body, supporting his wounded shoulder, "...After a fashion."

"What in the four hells does that mean?!"

"Link," Navi interrupted, "What if Ganondorf's still here?"

"No..." Sheik muttered, "He never was... sent the Gerudos here, he can trap us whenever... he... wants..."

The Sheikah broke off, unable to speak. Link touched the man's uninjured arm gently.

"Are you sure of this?"

"Yes..."

"Then we'll stay where we are," Link said firmly, "for now."

Sheik made no response other than to release a breath of pain. Link leaned forward over him.

"What do you need me to do?"

"I... don't know," Sheik's hand moved uselessly against the ground, "help me... sit up."

Link laced an arm gingerly beneath Sheik's injured shoulder and closed his hand around the fabric surrounding the man's chest. As Link pulled him, Sheik cried out, the arrow in his side jostled by the movement. Link propped the man up against the boulder, leaving room between the tip of the arrow protruding from Sheik's back and the brown rock.

"Careful," Navi hovered nervously.

Link glanced at Sheik's left arm. The skin of his hand was nearly white.

"Sheik," Link said softly, "I have to push your shoulder back in place. Otherwise you'll lose that arm."

Sheik simply nodded, grunting.

Link wrapped an arm around the man's chest, holding Sheik's frame close to his own to support the beaten body. He fingered the bleeding shoulder, wondering if there was a least painful way to correct the joint.

"Just... do it," Sheik breathed in frustration.

Link closed his fingers around the bruised skin of Sheik's upper arm.

"Sorry," he said in advance.

He lifted the arm quickly, then pushed it back. Sheik screamed in pain as the stretched and bleeding flesh was further strained. Link pushed on the space beneath the joint, making sure it was in place. He pulled back, releasing Sheik and feeling him go limp.

"Thank you..." Sheik's head dipped forward, his scarf falling away from his face.

"Now what?" Link asked, momentarily concerned that Sheik would pass out.

"Here..." the Sheikah lifted a hand to the arrow. He closed two fingers around the wood, and it severed with a flash. He tossed aside the fletch end of the shaft.

"You'll have to... pull it out."

Link nodded, taking off his scabbard and shield and letting his travel bag fall to the ground. He opened the leather pouch and dug around, finding only one length of cloth.

"Use this..." Sheik pulled weakly at the white scarf around his neck.

Link moved forward and gently removed the cloth, at once concerned and curious. Although they'd met on many brief occasions, Link had never seen Sheik's face. As he pulled the cloth away, he noted the flat line of Sheik's mouth and his soft jawline.

Sheik looked up at Link, their faces only inches apart. Link was struck by the familiarity of the face before him. He felt he'd seen the man before, but couldn't place where. Sheik's blond hair fell back as he turned his face, and Link was surprised to see that Sheik's eye, usually covered by hair, was blue, in solid contrast with the red-brown eye Link was accustomed to seeing.

"Er..." Sheik glanced up and down Link's face.

Link, registering the confusion in Sheik's eyes and realizing he was staring, backed away, scarf in hand. He looked at the sky, embarrassed, and saw that the last of the twilight was on its way into darkness.

"Hero..." Sheik said, bringing Link's eyes back down, "you will need... your sword."

Link looked quizzically at the Sheikah.

"To seal the wound..."

Link paled, not comprehending, but turned and stood, walking to the spot where the sword had landed upright in the ground. He eased it from the hard dirt and wiped it on the edge of his tunic. He was distracted by the blood on his arm and realized with a jolt just how much of it there was. As he walked back to Sheik's side, he sent a prayer heavenwards in hopes that the goddesses might hear.

Sheik leaned forward, a harsh sigh escaping his lips as he clasped a hand to the shaft of the arrow, stabilizing it. Link held out a hand before the Sheikah's quivering frame, afraid the wounded man might collapse forward. But Sheik sat up as straight as he could and looked directly at Link.

Link saw the fire and pain in Sheik's eyes and waited for an instruction.

Sure enough, Sheik held up his hand and reached for the blade of the sacred sword.

"I'll heat the metal..." his voice was losing strength, "and then..."

"I understand," Link said quickly.

Sheik nodded weakly, his fingers brushing against Link's arm as the Hero moved closer, sword in hand.

Upon the touch, Sheik's hand jerked back slightly, and Link paused to look at the man a moment. Why had he recoiled? He brushed the question away and watched Sheik shift himself slowly to lean on his left hip, bleeding arm dangling limply by his side.

Link took the moment to lean away and use his sword to cut even strips of the white scarf. He laid them one by one in a line behind himself.

Sheik made a weak sound and Link turned.

"Now..." Sheik whispered.

Link felt a surge of concern and panic rise, but quelled it. Now was not the time for fear. He took hold of Sheik's good arm and positioned it away from the wound.

"The less you can move when when I do this," Link kept his voice level, "the less it will bleed."

"I... _know_..." Sheik answered.

Link noticed the irritation in the man's voice but made no response. They were both accustomed to Sheik being the one in control of the situation, other than a bizarre incident involving the town well in Kakiriko.

The Hero pulled a small knife from his boot cuff and slit the fabric of Sheik's shirt surrounding the arrow. Sheik hissed as Link peeled the cloth away from the torn skin.

"Sorry," Link mumbled, cutting the shirt down the side and pulling it apart. The ends of cloth fell to hang loosely around Sheik's muscular frame.

Link held his sword in front of Sheik, whose shaking hand extended to close around the sharp metal. The blade began to glow at the tip, and Sheik's hand fell away as a light smoke rose from the sword.

"Ready?" Link asked, closing one hand around the arrow just above the head.

Sheik grunted, which Link assumed meant yes.

Using his foot to brace Sheik's leg, Link pulled down, hard.

Sheik screamed haltingly into Link's ear as the Hero covered one side of the bleeding wound with his hand and lowered the glowing sword tip to Sheik's skin. The Sheikah's body jerked involuntarily, but Link held the blade steady until he was sure the burn had sealed. Pushing Sheik forward he pulled his blood-soaked hand away from the back of the wound and pressed the heated metal against the flow. He used his free hand to grasp Sheik's good shoulder and hold him in place. A moment longer...

Link pulled the blade away and saw the heat had mostly stemmed the bleeding. He reached first for the thicker bandage, hearing Sheik mumble something as he pressed it to the wound.

"Hang on," Link found himself repeating softly, "Hang on, you're alright."

"Nn... ln..."

Link glanced at the Sheikah's face. Sheik's eyes were unfocused and barely open, tears streaming from beneath the lids.

"Din's blazes," the Hero cursed, wrapping the wound with the white cloth as quickly as he could. His arm snaked around Sheik's middle to pull the bandage forward.

"Link..." Sheik whispered into his ear.

Link caught the Sheikah as he fell, unconscious. Checking the remaining number of bandages, he placed Sheik's head in the curve of his shoulder and continued wrapping.

Navi flew closer to lend light, as darkness finally quenched the remainder of the twilight. Link watched his own steady hands move the bandage in circles around Sheik's body, but his mind was far elsewhere.

He wondered if for a moment, he hadn't succumbed to the panic, or the shock, or even the fatigue. The voice that had spoken in his ear had been Sheik's.

But it had sounded exactly like Zelda's.


	3. Escape from Safety

Link stared into the flames, considering his plan for the morning.

He'd built a small fire to keep Sheik warm and covered him with a rough traveler's cloak. He hoped that would be enough for now.

"Link?" Navi hovered beside his face.

"Mm?" he glanced up at the glowing body, his vision spotty from the fire.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking," he whispered, sighing, "he lost a lot of blood."

"Will he live?"

"Probably. If we can get him to Kakariko tomorrow, the witch should be able to help him."

Navi landed on Link's foot, "Shouldn't we track down Impa?"

"I thought she went to the Sacred Realm."

"Me too," Navi shrugged, the motion barely visible through her blue light, "but I remember two of the Gerudos talking about her. Like she was still here."

"Why would we track her down, anyway?"

"What are you, stupid?" Navi flitted up to his face, "Impa used to call herself the last Sheikah, right?"

"...right." Link leaned away from the fairy.

"So, _he _calls himself the last Sheikah," her tiny arm pointed at Sheik, "which means they're probably related!"

Link blinked at her, "You think he's..."

"I don't know," Navi snapped, "but they both do the mysterious thing."

"Navi," Link chuckled, "I think all Sheikah are like that."

The fire cracked loudly, causing Link's hand to twitch toward his sword. Navi flew over him, landing on his head.

"You're really nervous tonight," she noted.

"Very perceptive, Navi," Link yawned, fingering his earring, "we've really got a strong psychic connection going."

She punched the top of his head, "Hush up, you!"

A moaning sound from across the fire drew the attention of the Hero and his fairy. Sheik stirred, eyes opening slowly.

Link stood up and moved toward the Sheikah, crouching beside the injured man.

"You alright?" Link asked.

Sheik stared at him for a moment, disoriented. He moved as if to sit up, but Link laid a hand on his good shoulder.

"Stay down," he pushed the Sheikah softly back, "you're hurt pretty badly."

Sheik licked dry lips, turning his head away from the fire, "Then why ask... if I'm alright."

Link considered it, "Good question."

"I---" Sheik froze as he moved in a painful direction. His good hand found its way to his side, pushing back the cloak, "Din..."

Link waited patiently as Sheik regained the ability to speak.

"I suppose," Sheik finally gasped, "this makes us even."

"No," Link smiled, "You've saved my life twice today. I've returned the favor only once."

"And... a half," Sheik coughed.

Link smiled again. A gentle silence drew out as the fire crackled, sending sparks into the air. Sheik looked at it for a long moment.

"Thank you," he finally said.

Link glanced sideways at him, "You expected me to leave you for dead?"

"No..." Sheik said nothing more, pausing to brace himself against the pain.

"Sheik?"

He looked to Link, "...yes?"

"Who are you?"

For the first time in the history of their acquaintance, Sheik smiled, "In what sense?"

Link sat down in the dirt beside the Sheikah, "You said you were the last Sheikah. Are you... Impa's son?"

"She raised me," Sheik answered ambiguously, weak smile fading.

Link sighed lightly and moved on, "Why are you helping me?"

Sheik looked at him, a faint amusement in his eyes, "You tell me."

Unsure how to respond to this answer, Link looked away. He had a feeling he wouldn't be getting any useful information from the Sheikah.

"You said you knew where Zelda was," he said bluntly, "so where is she?"

"Hero," Sheik fought back a groan of pain, "ours... may not be the only ears present."

Link let out a frustrated noise, "Is she safe?"

"Yes," Sheik breathed.

"Thank you."

"... she is injured."

"_What?_"

Sheik met Link's furious stare, "The enemy has not found her... The archer had no knowledge of her identity."

"Will she... is she going to be alright?"

"I... I hope so," Sheik said heavily, voice deepening as his hand reached for his battered shoulder. He brushed his fingers over the wound and glanced at it, finding it wrapped in brown cloth.

"I ran out of bandages," Link said in explanation.

Sheik looked at him in clear thankfulness.

Link stood up, stretching his legs and staring out at the starry night sky.

"She speaks of you often," Sheik said unexpectedly.

"What?" Link's gaze snapped down to the Sheikah's face.

"The princess..." Sheik shifted himself gently, teeth gritted.

Link found himself on the ground beside the Sheikah again, "You spoke with her?"

"Yes."

"Does she..." Link took a breath, "Do you see her often?"

Sheik tilted his head back, "Yes."

"Can you give me anything more than one syllable?"

"Ha..." Sheik smiled again, "She misses you."

Link stared at the man, then looked down at his boots. She missed him. He looked back to Sheik, a new and alien thought rising in his mind.

"How do you know this?" he searched Sheik's face.

"She and I... have known each other for years."

Link's stomach tightened, "You have?"

Sheik glanced at Link, mismatched eyes showing confusion at Link's grave tone. His features shifted suddenly into recognition, then obvious amusement. To Link's chagrin, Sheik began laughing weakly.

"No..." Sheik managed, between laughs and winces, "you... ah... ha... not at all."

The expression spreading across Sheik's face caused Link to blush deeply.

"Oh," Link said gracefully, moving back a little.

Sheik laughed again, then stopped, body jerking to one side as he gasped in pain. Link moved toward him automatically.

"...alright," Sheik muttered unconvincingly, hand held loosely to his side. A circle of red had begun to spread through the bandages.

"Oh, goddesses," Link breathed.

Navi flew past his shoulder, blinding his left eye, "Is he alright?"

"Yes," Sheik said, as Link answered, "No, he's bleeding again."

Navi hovered over Sheik for a moment.

"You know," she said, "you look familiar."

"Do I..." Sheik mumbled.

"I'm Navi, by the way."

"Yes," Sheik placed his good hand against the ground, "I know."

Link watched the Sheikah, "I'm serious, are you alright?"

"Yes..." Sheik said, annoyance coloring his tone.

"Hey," Link half-smiled, "you'd better be alive when I wake up."

Sheik matched his dark smile and nodded.

Link stood and walked back over to his side of the now-dying fire, lying down in the dirt and resting his head against his shield.

"Alive?" Navi whispered, "He'd better still be _here _when we wake up."

Link closed his eyes, "Go to sleep Navi."

She said something else in protest but he ignored her. Zelda missed him. But she was hurt... he needed to get to her, to make sure she was alright.

And Navi was right. Sheik did look familiar. In fact, he wasn't entirely dissimilar from Zelda. But other than some kind of bizarre affair involving the royal family, Link couldn't think of a reason why.

The strange thoughts and his concern for the two mingled in his head as he fell asleep. He'd make sure to find out in the morning where Zelda was.

* * *

Sheik, of course, was not there when they woke up.

By early morning, Zelda had made her way back to the gates of Kakariko. She stumbled down a flight of stairs, still disguised. She was afraid of what would happen if she transformed into her own shape.

On the second flight of stairs, she almost fell, and had to lean against a wall to keep from tumbling down. She steeled herself and took a few more steps. Her side was burning, the gaping wound now bleeding through the bandages, and her shoulder was throbbing steadily. Her left arm was still unusable, bouncing gently against her hip.

She heard a shrieking gasp from far to her right and turned weakly. One of the village women was running toward the stairway.

"Sheik!" the woman stopped several yards away, "What happened?!"

The absurdity of the question almost caused Zelda to laugh.

"Get... Impa," she said instead.

The woman rushed off, skirts flying in the morning breeze. Zelda placed her hand against the wall for support and attempted another step. Her head was spinning. She saw her foot, shaking, almost miss the step.

"Time to sit down..." she breathed to herself, doing so stiffly. The hole in her side began to sting more ferociously as she leaned forward. She heard footsteps running toward her.

Suddenly, Impa was beside her, stringing a tan arm beneath Zelda's uninjured shoulder and lifting her up.

"Goddesses, child," Impa whispered, "what have you done?"

Zelda felt her mind losing its grasp on her thoughts, "Impa..."

"I've got you."

"Going to..."

But her vision clouded and darkened before she could finish the sentence. She felt Impa catch her, heard the Sheikah woman yelling to someone else for help... then she plunged into a senseless sleep.

Zelda awoke to the sense of sound only. She could hear faint voices, conversing in hushed tones. They solidified slowly... a man's voice... Impa's, and the witch's... the man began speaking again, and Zelda could almost make out the words.

Her ability to hear snapped suddenly into place, and Zelda was treated to some of the nastiest swearing she'd ever heard.

"Nayru's tits, Impa, yeh're saying there are fleece-sucking _Gerudos _wandering around up there?!"

"Yes," Impa's voice was terse, "trust me, they're the only ones who ever tip their arrows with magic."

"An _arrow _did that?!" the man sounded disgusted.

"Yes."

"Well, blast me sideways! I've never even heard of anything like that."

"Keep your voice down."

"What about the Hero?" the man continued in lower tones, "Was he up there?"

"Most likely," Impa whispered.

The man let out a low whistle, "Yeh think he got hurt, too?"

"I've heard he was in poor shape when he passed through town."

"He passed through here?!" the man's voice escalated.

"Hush! Yes, he did---"

"_Raven's balls, woman!_" he roared, "Why didn't yeh tell us?!"

"Because he wouldn't have stopped for healing and for the love of the goddesses, be quiet or leave the room!"

"He's awake," said the witch softly.

Zelda allowed her eyes to open, seeing Impa's concerned face slowly come into focus.

"Sheik?" asked the older woman instructively.

Zelda mumbled something that she hoped resembled the word, "Water."

The witch leaned over her with a small pitcher and poured a small amount of the liquid into Zelda's mouth. Zelda was only able to swallow half of it before she began coughing. The witch placed a firm hand to Zelda's throat and the coughing subsided.

"How yeh feelin?" the man leaned into view, and Zelda finally placed his voice. He was the shopkeeper of the bazaar. His rough face was concerned.

Zelda's good hand drifted towards her side, feeling new bandages on the wound.

"We stitched yeh up pretty solid," the shopkeeper added.

"Thank you," Zelda managed, her throat burning.

"Sheik, what of the Hero," Impa asked, "Is he safe?"

Zelda felt a strong rush of annoyance. Impa knew perfectly well that the Hero was fine, or the princess wouldn't have returned.

"Yes," she answered, wondering why she felt far less pain than she should have, "He and his fairy are fine. They'll be back this way."

She glanced at Impa meaningfully. The Sheikah woman barely nodded and turned to the assembled company.

"If you two would excuse us," she said softly, coloring her tone with false emotion. The witch shrugged and placed the pitcher of water on a chair, opening the door. The smells of the potion shop drifted in.

"I could wait by the outside door," the shopkeeper said into Impa's ear, "if yeh need me to."

"No, thank you. You've done enough. It would be best to return about your business before anyone suspects something's gone wrong."

He nodded and half-saluted, lumbering frame following the witch into the outer shop. The door closed softly and all other sound vanished.

Impa sat down in a chair beside the bed, "You could change back, now."

"I'm..." Zelda looked at her shoulder, wrapped in white linen, "I'm a little afraid to."

"I understand."

A pause.

"He saved my life, Impa."

"Unsurprising," Impa smiled softly, "he is the Hero of Time."

"No," Zelda waved her good hand weakly, "he shouldn't have had to... I allowed myself to be distracted."

Impa waited a beat, "By?"

Zelda turned her head to look at Impa. Her eyes gave her away and Impa nodded knowingly, looking to the floor for a moment.

"I did tell you," said the Sheikah, "not to allow your emotions---"

"To follow me onto the field of battle," Zelda finished, quietly, "I know... I..."

"However," Impa continued, "in my case, this advice is somewhat hypocritical."

"...what?"

Impa took a breath, grey eyes settling on the wall behind Zelda, "I once let a man live who I should have killed. I've lived to regret it."

A silence stretched, as Zelda noticed the sudden paleness of Impa's face. The princess asked no questions, deeming them unnecessary. She cleared her dry throat. Her body felt vaguely numb.

"What did they give me?" Zelda murmured to herself.

"A strong healing potion," Impa shifted on her seat, "You'll be well again in a few days."

"Oh, yes... about that."

Impa lifted her eyebrow.

"I may have told Link," Zelda swallowed a cough, "that I knew where the princess was."

"Not entirely a lie," Impa chuckled.

"But he'll come looking for me. As Sheik."

"Ah. Well, we'll hide you, of course. Pretend you never came through here."

Zelda smiled, "That's the worst boldfaced lie you could tell him.... Where else would I have gone?"

"Very true."

"You could tell him I died... that wouldn't be too far from the truth."

"Come now, you will be well soon."

"Er... I meant Zelda."

"You _are _Zelda."

"Tell him the princess is dead. I told him she was wounded. Everyone else in Hyrule suspects she's--- I'm dead, anyway."

Impa re-folded her hands in her lap, "That seems a great risk to take just to prolong a lie."

"Where is the risk?"

"The Hero loses hope. The people lose hope."

Zelda remained silent.

"Did you have another plan?" Impa persisted.

"No."

"Then I suggest you and I hide and allow our friends to uphold the illusion."

"The entire town..." Zelda was interrupted by the first pang of feeling in her arm.

"I will take care of this matter," Impa said firmly, "but for now, you rest."

"Impa..."

"_Rest_."

* * *

"Well, I don't usually say I told you so---"

"Navi, you _always _say I told you so. So shut up."

She flitted behind Link's head, blowing raspberries at him, "If you'd kept an eye on him, this wouldn't be a problem."

Link ignored her and followed the trail, flecked by Sheik's blood, down the mountain. He sheathed his sword and rubbed a sore arm. The midday sun was burning his face and causing him to sweat through his clothing.

"And you stink," Navi darted out of his reach, "you know that?"

"I'm aware, Navi."

"Watch out for the tektite."

Link whirled, "What tek---"

"_That one!_"

A red blur leapt at his face and he dodged away, pulling out his bow and grasping for an arrow. The large, spiderlike creature watched him for a moment. It leapt again, and he released the arrow into it's single red eye. The thing shriveled into a fiery pile of ash.

"Well..." Navi said, hovering over the spot.

"Haven't seen one of those in a long time."

"Don't the Gorons usually take care of these things?"

"Yeah..." Link glanced back down the trail. He had more pressing questions to address. Retrieving his arrow, he gestured to Navi to follow him.

"Come on," he turned briskly, "we're almost there."

He began walking again, noticing a bloody smear on the rock wall. Handprints.

"He must've been getting weak," Navi said unnecessarily.

"So he stopped in Kakariko."

"He has to have."

Link nodded and was silent, trudging down a steep dirt slope.

"So," Navi continued, "if he's in Kakariko, he'll be hiding."

"From Ganondorf or from us?" Link asked wryly.

"Both, I suppose."

Link breathed humorless laughter as he rounded a corner. Ahead, Kakariko Village was visible between the mountain's crags.

This time, he promised himself, he would not let the Sheikah rest until he'd revealed Zelda's location. Link had waited long enough.


	4. The Calm Before

The desert sun burned high overhead as Ganondorf and his escorts arrived in Gerudo Valley. They pushed their exhausted horses up the final hill, stopping before a company of Gerudo guards. The women saluted and stood at attention as their captain began barking out orders.

Ganondorf looked over the hideout with distaste. His people were all but useless to him, now that he had command of Hyrule's monster races. Though he could count on the Gerudos when an amount of stealth was necessary, he foresaw a near future where brute strength would be the only means of warfare.

He considered the women before him as they saluted again and dispersed to their duties. He would turn them into slaves. Once he destroyed their little fighting harem, he would imprison and sell them, or perhaps drain their energy to create new monsters.

The Thief King's reverie was interrupted by the guard captain's voice.

"You wished to see the prisoner, sir?"

"Yes," Ganondorf dismounted and handed the reins to a waiting attendant.

The captain nodded, "If you will accompany me to the east wing cells..."

Ganondorf took the lead, wrapping his cape around his arm as a breeze picked up.

"We captured him near the eastern woods," the captain said loudly over the wind, holding up her arm to shield her face from the flying sand, "He claimed he was looking for Poes, but my soldiers say he was looking for another way into the valley."

They reached the nearly hidden doorway as the wind began moaning over the sands. Ganondorf stepped inside the stone hall, pausing as his eyes adjusted to the torchlight. The guard captain shook sand from her short hair and stepped ahead of her king, gesturing to the cell to her right.

"Here he is, my lord," she bowed and moved back.

Ganondorf strode up to the bars and regarded the man behind them.

He was slumped against the back wall, his clothes torn and bloodied. His brown hair was matted with blood, and one eye was swollen shut. His open blue eye watched Ganondorf in trepidation.

The Gerudo King chuckled, "Your soldiers are getting soft, if that's all they've done to him. He hasn't given you anything?"

"We have not interrogated him yet, my lord."

"Why?" he glared sharply at her.

She bowed again, "Mistress Nabooru's order was to spare the prisoner until you could personally oversee our interrogation."

Ganondorf was taken aback for a moment, then began to laugh. The guard captain straightened from her bow, glancing from her king to the prisoner.

"She gave me a present," Ganondorf grinned darkly at the man in the cell, "How loyal."

The guard captain waited a moment, then cleared her throat.

"What."

"Sir, there is something else you should see."

He turned, facing the Gerudo. In her hand she held a small wooden shape, flecked with green. Ganondorf recognized it immediately.

"He was carrying this," the woman explained.

Ganondorf took it from her, turning it over in his palm.

"This..." he stared at it, then smiled wickedly in the direction of the cell, "This doesn't belong to you."

The young man behind the bars moved weakly back, pressing himself against the stone wall.

"Send a rider for Nabooru. Tell her to search Kakariko Village for any members of the resistance."

"Sir, I thought she already---"

"_Now!_" he whirled, striking the captain across the cheek. She staggered back, holding a hand to the side of her face.

"Yes, my lord," she muttered, bowing and exiting into the windy desert.

Ganondorf flexed his fist and glanced at the captive Hylian.

"So," his face took on an amused expression, "I'm very curious how you got your hands on this."

The prisoner breathed heavily against bruised ribs, "And... you'll die that way."

Ganondorf made a sweeping gesture with his hand.

"By all means," purple energy began to buzz over his open fingers, "you first."

* * *

"Yeh're sure he'll be alright?" the bazaar's shopkeeper asked again.

"Yes," Impa replied patiently, "He's strong enough to make it to the hideout."

Zelda, disguised yet again and sitting precariously on the edge of the bed, was barely well enough to keep her inner emotional battle from manifesting in her actions. She wanted nothing more than to reveal herself then and there and greet the Hero with open arms.

However, the plan Impa had devised was much less exciting, and contained a much smaller chance of certain death.

They stood in the back room of the old witch's house, the door to a secret stairway open behind them.

"Yeh remember where it is," the shopkeeper was saying, "the stone with the---"

"I remember when they built it," Impa's voice strained slightly for the first time, "You needn't worry about us."

"Alrigh', alrigh'," he held up his hands, "I'll be at the bazaar if yeh need me. Jus' send a man over."

"Thank you," Impa said to his retreating back. The door shut and the Sheikah woman groaned softly.

"Finally," she leaned down beside Zelda, "I thought he'd never go."

"Mm," Zelda grasped Impa around the shoulders with her good arm. Her left arm was wrapped tightly in a sling.

The Sheikah and the princess stood as one, the latter leaning heavily on Impa's shoulder. Zelda gasped as a burning pain spread across her abdomen.

"Ah..." she stumbled, "I thought you gave me a potion for that."

"A potion," Impa said quietly, "not a miracle."

Zelda groaned and pulled herself up, inadvertently jostling her left arm. Her shoulder throbbed in protest.

"_Nayru_, that hurts," she choked, tightening her grip on Impa's arm.

"I can give you something for the pain when we reach the cavern," the Sheikah whispered soothingly, "let's get down the stairs first."

"Right."

They moved slowly to the door. As soon as they were past it, Impa caught it with her foot and pulled it shut. Darkness enveloped the two women.

Zelda clenched her fist, ignoring the pain in her arm, and focused on her disguise. A sudden flash radiated from the triforce mark on her hand, and her body shifted into its original form. Her Sheikah clothing melted back into her blue travel dress, and her long hair fell free.

The princess sighed in relief. Impa mumbled a few words of an ancient incantation, and the torches along the wall responded by coming to life with blue fire.

"Let's go," Impa's arm pushed gently against Zelda's back.

The began to descend the steps, moving slowly. After about a minute of silence, Zelda glanced at her guardian, an unasked question festering in her mind.

"Impa?"

"Yes?"

The princess waited for a spasm of pain to pass, "... the man you say you should have killed... who was he?"

Impa did not answer immediately. She shifted her weight, allowing Zelda to lean more fully on her.

"He was... an advisor to your father. I doubt you remember him, he died in your sixth year."

An uneven step caused the princess to trip, clutching Impa's frame to keep from falling.

"If he died after all... ah," Zelda flinched as the wound in her side was attacked by invisible daggers, "...why were you concerned...?"

They reached the end of the stairway, and the passage flattened into an underground road. More torches lit the dank hall as the women progressed.

"He died," Impa nearly whispered, "but not before creating an alliance between your father and Ganondorf."

Zelda was shocked into silence. She watched the ground beneath her feet as they made slow progress over the floor, her mind distant. She searched her thoughts, past painful images of her father... but she could not find a face. In all her memories of the past, she could not recall any ambassador between the Gerudos and Hylians. Then again, what Impa said held true to Hylian tradition, which called for a go-between during any discussion of alliances. And Zelda had been very young...

"I would have remembered his funeral," she protested.

"I imagine you would have, had there been one."

"What?"

Impa sighed, "He disappeared."

Zelda opened her mouth to ask another question when Impa turned quickly to the left. Unprepared for the sudden change, the princess lost her balance. Impa caught her as she collapsed.

Halfway to the ground and leaning against her guardian, Zelda anticipated the rush of pain before it hit. Searing needles tore through her side and up her arm, and she fell to her knees, grasping at the bandages around her torso.

She tried to choke back her cry of pain, but the shrill sound echoed throughout the tunnel. Impa was kneeling in front of her, pushing back her hair.

"Child, I'm so sorry," the Sheikah whispered, "Are you bleeding?"

Zelda shook her head, "But... probably woke up... every re-dead in the caverns."

"Don't worry about them," Impa was unlacing Zelda's bodice, her hand pressed over the wound.

"Goddesses," Zelda breathed, barely maintaining her equilibrium. Deeper in the tunnels, something was scratching at the walls.

"You're bleeding," Impa said quickly, "lean on me and summon your lyre."

Zelda clenched her fist to muster her power, but was greeted by a terrifying sensation. Her body went cold as her vision darkened.

"No.." she felt her mind threatening to shut down.

Her body lurched as the floor seemed to move.

"Zelda," Impa was repeating urgently, "Zelda, stay awake."

The princess fought back the darkness as best she could and clenched her fist once more. Yellow magic spun like yarn through the air and formed the shape of the Sheikah's lyre, which Impa caught.

A piercing shriek echoed down the tunnel walls.

"Damnit," Impa swore, fumbling to support Zelda.

Another wave of pain caused Zelda's body to convulse, and she fell to the ground, landing on her uninjured shoulder.

"No..." she gasped as Impa reached for her, "the song..."

In the dark cavern ahead of them, shuffling sounds and more shrieking could be heard.

Impa lifted the lyre as Zelda sank into unconsciousness once more.

* * *

Link raised a blond eyebrow at the man before him.

"You mean you didn't notice the trail of blood outside your store?"

"Oy," the gruff man leaned over the bazaar counter, towering over the Hero, "I didn't see anything, I didn't see anything. Yeh don't have to like it."

Link groaned in frustration, "Fine, you didn't see anything. _I_ don't see what you could possibly gain from lying, but fine. I'll go elsewhere."

Navi flitted out from her space in his travel bag, "You're gonna take that?"

Link glanced sideways at the little ball of blue light, "Be my guest, Navi, challenge him to a fight."

The shopkeeper made a disquieting noise.

Link turned to the bazaar owner again. The man's large mouth was hanging open, his small eyes as wide as possible. He looked as if he'd been slapped.

"Uh," Link took a step back.

"I'm sorry," the shopkeeper said in an extremely loud voice. He picked up a rag and began to dust various objects with deadly force. He looked embarrassed.

Link stared openly at the man, confused.

"Er," the shopkeeper noticed him watching and leaned lower over his countertop, "I didn't see 'im. Can't help yeh. Sorry."

Navi slowly floated closer to Link, "I think we should... go?"

"Right," Link said distractedly, "the, uh... potion shop. Let's go there."

The owner of the bazaar looked up suddenly, "Oh, yeh won't find anyone there."

"What?"

"Owner's been gone a week," he waved the rag in the air, "no one's even heard anything from or about 'im. Everyone's sayin' the monsters got 'im."

"Oh," Link looked at the floor, "Sorry."

"Yeah, downright shame. Too young to be gettin' killed, had a pretty young wife at home an' everything. Baby on the way, too."

The shopkeeper began running the rag over the counter, seemingly chasing away dark thoughts.

Link watched for a moment, then turned to the door, "Thanks anyway. I'm sorry about your friend."

"Nah... an' I'm sorry about yours..." the man shrugged sadly, turning away.

Link nodded and opened the door.

"... Hero."

Link spun around, but the shopkeeper had already disappeared into the back room of his store.

"Well," Navi landed on Link's shoulder, "that was... eerie."

Link was staring hard at the closed door to the back room. There were only two people in Hyrule who would ever have revealed his identity as the Hero to the shopkeeper. One was Ganondorf, and a friendship between he and the owner of the Kakariko Bazaar seemed extremely unlikely. The other...

"Sheik," Link muttered, drawing his sword.

"Whoa," Navi flew into the air beside him, "sword?"

Link made no immediate answer. He leapt over the bazaar counter and leaned against the back door, testing the knob. Locked.

"Yes, Navi," he lifted the blade over the thinnest part of the doorknob, "sword."

Building magic in his hands, he swung the sword mightily in a downward arc.

The doorknob fell off, severed neatly from its base. The wooden door creaked slowly open.

Leading with his sword, the Hero took tentative steps into the dark hallway. Navi flew in front to provide light.

The short hall lead to another door, which had been left ajar. Daylight flowed in through the tiny space.

"You are aware," Navi barely murmured, "this is probably a trap."

"Well aware. Thank you."

They stopped just behind the door.

"Here goes," Link breathed.

He kicked open the door and charged into the sunlit day.


	5. Gathering Clouds

Ganondorf pulled up a chair and sat down, facing the prisoner.

A missing finger and several broken ribs later, the man was still steadfast in his silence. He took deep, jagged breaths, wincing deeply as a Gerudo bound his hand. The large iron rod to her left was still hot from sealing the wound.

Seeing an opportunity, Ganondorf picked up the iron, watching its red tip release smoke.

"You surprise me," he said to the prisoner, "most would have given in by now. But you're protecting something, aren't you?"

The man simply glared at Ganondorf with his open eye, his arm twitching. The Gerudo soldier finished wrapping his hand and stood, bowing to her king before leaving the cell. She closed the door on the two men and walked away.

"As commendable as that is," the King of Thieves waved the pointed iron back and forth, "people with something to protect often have the most to lose."

He waited for a reply, but none came.

"Alright," he stood up, gesturing with the hot iron, "clearly you haven't been given enough incentive to talk. I'll tell you what I know, and you'll fill in the rest."

The man spat at Ganondorf's feet.

"One," the Gerudo king slammed the burning iron against the young man's arm. Over his screams, Ganondorf continued, "you're called Avin."

The man writhed on the ground, clutching his scorched arm with his bandaged hand.

"Two," the iron was pressed against the man's other arm, "you hail from Kakariko Village."

"_Nayru!_" the man shouted, lying flat on the ground and twitching in pain.

Ganondorf paused, amused.

Fighting to breathe, Avin watched his captor in fury, "Rot... in the fourth hell... you bastard."

"Three," Ganondorf held the iron above Avin's face, amusement gone, "you _somehow_ acquired an ocarina belonging to the Forest Sage."

Without warning, he pulled back and thrust the iron through the prisoner's shoulder. The Hylian screamed as the point clunked off the rock floor. A soft crackling noise accompanied the smell of burning flesh. Running out of air, Avin gasped against his broken ribs, pulling weakly at the iron rod.

"Now," Ganondorf sat in his chair, leaning back, "this is the part where you tell me what I ask of you."

He waited a moment, and took the silence as a positive answer.

"Where did you get the ocarina?"

"Traded.. for... it..." Avin rasped, "the bottle man... wanted fish..."

Ganondorf snorted, "And where did he get it?"

"Don't... know... Castletown..."

"I have to say," laughed the Gerudo king, "this would all be more convincing if you hadn't held out for so long."

"... Truth..."

"No, it isn't. But I am willing to negotiate. I'll find another sharp object to impale you with and you'll tell me where you really got it. Deal?"

Fast footfalls echoed from the main complex, causing Ganondorf to turn toward the inner door. A Gerudo guard rushed into the room, panting. She saluted hastily.

"What is it," Ganondorf stood.

"My lord, word of the Hero and the Sheikah."

"Well?"

She leaned on her spear to steady herself, "Rider just arrived with the news. They escaped, but the Sheikah is injured. The Hero is following him to Kakariko now."

Ganondorf laughed explosively.

The Gerudo guard took a step back.

The Thief King waved her dismissal. She bowed and left. Ganondorf turned to his captive, still laughing. He calmed himself as he watched Avin's terrified face.

"I'm sure you realize," the tyrant smiled, "the exact beauty of this coincidence."

Avin said nothing, but groaned in pain and anguish.

"I think," Ganondorf let himself out of the cell, shutting the door on the bleeding Hylian, "I'll leave you be for now. A healer will be sent in later to attend to you. I want you in perfect condition. We'll be going over your story again at a later date."

He locked the cell and tossed the keys across the room, "Meanwhile, I think I'll greet the Hero and his friend personally."

* * *

Link squinted as the sunlight glanced off his sword. The grass-covered ledge behind the store was deserted, as was the fenced-in yard beneath.

"Well," Navi said.

Link took an extra look around to make sure the shopkeeper was gone. He peered over the edge of the overhang. A chicken gazed stupidly back up at him.

He lowered his sword, "Where did he go?"

"Down there?"

"Navi, I just looked---"

"No, I mean, that hole."

Link watched Navi fly to the spot and hover above it.

A small round hole in the ground was just visible from where he stood on the precipice. Somewhere in his misty memory, a past notion came to life. He remembered a hiding place, a cave with a clear spring and warm air.

He slid down the ladder, pausing to allow Navi to grab onto his hair before he leapt into the dark opening.

The fall was short and he landed on his toes, rolling forward to crouch with his sword drawn before him.

"Er..."

Once again, there was no one there.

Link stood up as Navi floated into the small opening before them. She circled it, then flitted back to his shoulder.

"Alright, so I was wrong," she groaned, "and now we're in a cave."

"If I had a rupee for every time---"

"Oh, shut up."

Link sheathed his sword, "Then again, there wasn't anywhere else for him to have gone."

"Like I said."

The Hero stepped into the dim cavern, looking it over. It hadn't changed at all in seven years. He could just remember falling down the hole for the first time and making a less-than-graceful landing.

He moved to the wall of the cave and leaned against it, feeling the cool moisture against his back. His eyes drifted over the cave floor.

"Wait," he leaned down, looking at the edge of a pool of water.

A very large footprint was impressed into the muddy dirt. It was pointing toward the wall where Link stood. Navi darted from his shoulder.

"I was right!" she squealed.

Link turned around and evaluated the wall behind him. He pressed a pointed ear to the wet rock, listening for any footfalls.

Instead, he could just make out a long, harrowing scream.

He jerked his head away from the wall.

"What?" Navi hovered over him.

"Re-dead," he answered, reaching for his sword and digging through his travel bag.

"Okay... how do we get through the wall, genius?"

Link hooked his thumbs over his belt and appraised the thickness of the rock face, "I could always blow it up."

"Wait, look."

She flew into the darkness far above and brushed aside several mossy cobwebs. Her light revealed a symbol carved into the rock. An eye within a triangle gazed down on Link.

"That... makes no sense," he stared back at it, "how could the shopkeeper have made it through here that quickly?"

"Maybe it was already open," Navi snapped, "shoot it already."

He made a frustrated noise and ripped his bow from its place on his back, grasping an arrow with his fingertips. In one motion he notched and fired. A tiny metal plate fell forward to cover the stone eye, cutting the arrow in two.

The cavern wall shook slightly as the hidden door swung toward Link.

Another scream rang deafeningly in his ears, and as the door opened fully, he found himself staring into the empty eye sockets of a re-dead.

Link felt his blood turn frigid and found his vision transfixed. He heard Navi yelling at him, but over the low moaning of the corpse, the sound was alien. He urged his body to move as the dead creature shuffled closer and closer.

His mind finally registered the command, and he jumped sideways, out of the path of the monster. He drew his sword and rushed at the beast from behind, slicing it neatly in two. The thing's body melted into a puddle of dark blood as a death rattle echoed.

There was a long silence.

"Too close," Link muttered.

"Link, if that man went in there..."

He watched the dark tunnel for a moment, listening for any more sounds of re-dead. Not hearing anything, he moved forward.

Navi darted ahead to light the way.

"If he's in here, Navi," Link felt the charge of magic pulsing nervously through his hands, "we're going to find him."

"If you say so."

* * *

Zelda walked through the darkness alone. She knew Link was there, and she had to warn him. She had to tell him to go back.

"It's not safe here!" she cried into the blackness.

The only answer was a dull moaning noise. Still blind to all but herself, Zelda moved toward the sound.

"Are you hurt?"

No reply, but more moaning. It was a man, and he was in pain. Zelda quickened her pace, running across the abyss toward the sound. Her dress was too long, and began to trip her. She let her feet tear it as it caught on her shoes.

A shape became visible in the dark, a man hunched over. Something glinted on his head.

"Father?!" Zelda gasped, stumbling over the tattered hem of her gown, "Father, what are you doing here?! It's not safe, you have to go back!"

She reached his side and saw that he was trembling.

"Father..." she began, but was halted by shock as she saw the deep crimson of blood spreading across his tunic. A wound in his chest was bleeding unceasingly, drops of red running down to his hands and his royal robes.

"No..." she held his shoulders.

He looked up at her with a pale, drawn face. His eyes were unfocused. As he leaned toward her, the Hylian Circlet slid from his head and clanged loudly against the black floor.

"Zelda..." he breathed.

"Father," she began to cry, "Papa, no..."

He breathed out again, and his body went still. Zelda held him at arm's length for a moment longer, not wanting to believe...

The king's face twisted rapidly into a bizarre grimace. His skin darkened and warped, his flesh thinning beneath Zelda's grip. The princess screamed and moved back as her father's frame became bent and recognizable. His golden-grey hair began to fall away in clumps, and his lips peeled back to reveal pointed teeth.

His face jerked down, then back up at Zelda.

"No... Papa..." she whimpered, crawling backwards.

But she was looking at the featureless mask of a re-dead.

She awoke with a jolt and grasped her side in pain, looking wildly around.

Impa was above her, hushing her.

"You were dreaming, child," the Sheikah whispered, "nothing but a dream."

Trying to control her breathing, Zelda glanced around her. They were in the hidden cavern beneath Kakariko Cemetery. The blue walls and silver columns glistened with moisture in the dim firelight.

Impa reached a hand to Zelda's face, brushing away tears Zelda hadn't felt.

"I was dreaming..." the princess winced, "about my father."

"I gathered as much."

"I..." she shifted her weight a little, "I don't feel quite as..."

"I gave you another dose of the potion. Your wound has healed considerably."

Zelda watched Impa through tired eyes, "How long have I been asleep?"

"Several hours."

A pause allowed Zelda to hear the dripping of water elsewhere in the room.

"Zelda."

"Yes."

Impa regarded her with a sadness in her eyes, "I'm sorry."

"It was just a dream."

"... Of course."

* * *

Nabooru was pacing the throne room. She had seen Ganondorf do the same on many occasions, and felt she was entitled to try it at least once.

Running her fingers through her red hair, she glanced at the warped throne. She smiled suggestively at it, picturing Ganondorf's grin.

"Oh, but my lord," she whispered sweetly, "I could not think of ruling beside you."

She let the echo absorb the statement. Then she flipped her ponytail over her shoulder, laughing.

"I'd much rather do it alone," she said, sweetness gone. She held up her hand, looking over the gold rings and bracelets Ganondorf had given her.

All of this was to keep her happy, she knew, until he could kill her. She wouldn't give him the chance. She flicked a tiny switch on her bracelet, and a minute knife slid into her fingertips.

She toyed with it, and considered flinging it at the throne. She lifted her arm, aiming for the imaginary face of the man who had enslaved her people.

She was about to throw the knife when a rider from Gerudo Valley sprinted into the room and collapsed at her feet. Nabooru stepped back, horrified.

"What in the four hells are you---"

"My lady," the rider gasped for air, "urgent message from Lord Ganondorf."

Nabooru glared down at the woman, "What message?"

"He says---" the young woman swallowed to steady herself, "he says you are to search Kakariko Village for members of the resistance."

"Again?"

"Yes, my lady. Again."

"Hmm," Nabooru lifted the rider's chin with her foot, "that means he knows something I don't."

She considered for a moment, then leaned down and offered the young Gerudo her hand. The rider took it graciously.

"Come," Nabooru waved at her, "you'll rest while my guard and I do as the King ordered."

They walked out of the throne room, equals for the moment.

Within half an hour, Nabooru and her twenty elite fighters were assembled on horseback outside the castle. Clouds were gathering across the sun. The drawbridge was extended, and the dark thoroughbreds raced down over the black cobblestone.

As her steed began to run ahead of the others, Nabooru reflected that the townspeople of Kakariko had no way to prepare for her attack. She imagined them running and screaming, trapped in their valley. She began to smile.


	6. Fated Coincidence

The Master Sword whistled through the air and clanged as its tip hit solid ground. Above it, another re-dead fell in multiple pieces.

"I'm getting so damn sick of these things," Link panted. The tunnels were cool, but he'd been running for the last twenty minutes to avoid the re-dead. Not that running had helped.

"Looks like he got you," Navi fluttered beside Link's left arm, "not badly, though."

Link glanced down at the row of claw marks in his skin. His already tattered undershirt was beginning to come apart. He pulled at his sleeve and it came off in his hand. He used the white rag to wipe the blood from his arm.

"You're right," he tossed the cloth away, "not deep."

More moaning from far behind them reminded Link why he was running in the first place.

"I think they smell your blood," Navi whispered.

Link stared at her in disbelief.

"What?" Navi darted nervously back and forth.

"Four years of consciousness," Link gestured angrily with his sword, "That's how long you've been with me. And it didn't occur to you until _now_ to tell me the dead people can smell blood?!"

"I thought you knew!"

"What in our history made you think that?!"

"We don't have time for this!"

Link turned and began jogging down the tunnel. Navi flew ahead of him.

"Good reasoning, Navi," he muttered, "the kid grew up in a forest. Had only half a childhood and no education, _of course_ he knows everything about the walking dead!"

"Take it as a compliment," Navi shot loudly, "I thought you had half a brain."

Something to Link's right moved, and he jumped aside as a re-dead awoke with a scream. He sliced at the thing, and it fell, allowing him to keep running.

"Navi," he whispered viciously at her, "when we get out of here, I am going to rip your wings out."

"Good luck seeing in the dark, then."

Link groaned to himself and kept moving.

* * *

Zelda leaned against the wall, watching as Impa cleaned the wound in her side. The burned gash had healed almost completely, but the flesh around it was still badly bruised. The potion had done its work, however, and the pain was more manageable.

In the dim light, Zelda once again felt safe. As Impa ran a wet cloth over her hip, Zelda could almost pretend she was a child, and that this was one of her escapes into Castletown gone wrong.

"Do you remember," Zelda whispered, "when I snuck out at night to scare the guards?"

"Yes. None of them were ever amused that their princess liked to throw deku nuts at them."

"They didn't know it was me."

"Oh yes they did," Impa smiled, reaching for the extra bandages she'd brought, "give them a little credit, child."

"They never said anything."

"Who would have believed them? Certainly not your father."

Zelda chuckled, "True."

A loud clanging noise echoed from outside the chamber, and Impa glanced up. The women froze as faint voices seeped through the walls.

"Link," Zelda murmured.

"Mm," Impa whispered, returning to her work, "and probably the rest of the cemetery's occupants as well."

"We should help him."

"We should stay put," the Sheikah said firmly, her voice low, "and heal."

Zelda leaned her head back. She knew Impa was right. The sounds of voices faded away after a few minutes, and the silence overwhelmed the caverns yet again.

"How did he get down here, anyway?" Zelda asked softly.

Impa glanced up, tying off the bandage, "I believe our friend at the bazaar could tell you."

A grating sound of stone against stone interrupted the conversation, and Impa moved quickly to stand in front of Zelda. The hidden door to the room was being slid aside.

A large hand pushed the door back, and the bazaar shopkeeper's distinct face appeared in the light. Impa relaxed as Zelda tensed.

"Sorry," he stumbled into the small room and let the door slide to a close behind him, "I 'ad to come down."

"We heard the Hero go by," Impa said calmly, nudging Zelda with her foot.

Zelda flexed her hand, begging her power to gather faster. The triforce mark began to glow softly, but a sinking feeling told her it was no use. She couldn't transform before...

"Din, Nayru and Farore," the shopkeeper swore, his eyes on Zelda.

The princess sunk lower against the wall, the mark on her hand fading.

"Who is she?!" the giant asked loudly, "Where's Sheik?!"

"Keep your voice down," Impa barely whispered. She turned to glance at Zelda, revealing that her face was several shades whiter than it had been moments ago.

"But Sheik...?" the man was obviously as concerned as he was clueless.

"Sheik..." Zelda said gently, "had to leave."

The man stared at her. He looked to Impa for an answer, then looked sharply back at Zelda.

The princess realized belatedly that her arm was still in a sling, and that her open dress was exposing her bandages.

"Don't I know yer voice?" the man asked her.

"I..." Zelda couldn't tell if this was good or bad fortune, "have been to your shop before."

"No," the man narrowed his small eyes at her, "it's not that. I know e'ry customer."

Impa sighed and moved to sit beside Zelda. The bazaar keeper moved into the center of the room, still squinting at Zelda.

"Well?" he asked gruffly, "Who are yeh?"

Zelda simply watched him breathe, hoping he would give up and ask about Sheik again.

"Impa," he turned to the elder woman, "I've been out on a limb enough for yeh, haven' I? Don't I deserve to be told?"

"For that matter, Domel," Impa said sharply, "You should not have told the Hero where we were."

"I didn't!" the man crossed his arms, "He followed me."

"He would not have done so if you hadn't left. You wouldn't have left if you had remained true to the plan, so what changed?"

The man looked from Impa to Zelda for help.

Zelda raised an eyebrow, "Domel?"

"S'a stupid name," he admitted bashfully, "an' I didn't tell the Hero anything. I jus' called him Hero an' he followed me."

Impa placed her forehead on her fingertips, "You were not to acknowledge you knew his identity."

"I know, I jus'... I got so excited..."

"Your misplaced patriotism could have cost us all our lives," Impa snapped.

"Why?!" Domel put his hands on his hips, "He's the Hero, righ'? Saves things! He wouldn't hurt us!"

"_He_ wouldn't," Impa's voice could have cut ice, "Ganondorf would."

Domel's face went blank.

Impa opened her mouth to snap at him again, but Zelda spoke quickly, "Ganondorf has spies following the Hero. If you had lead him here, those spies would have given away our location, as well as the secret tunnels. Kakariko would likely be destroyed in the process."

Zelda had tried to put it gently, but Domel looked as if he'd been slapped.

"Oh, hells," the shopkeeper stared into Zelda's eyes.

"Precisely," Impa quipped.

"No," Domel shook his head slowly, still watching Zelda, "I mean..."

Zelda felt a strong pull at the bottom of her stomach. The look in Domel's eyes was that of realization.

"I... y..." he sank to one knee, "... Princess?"

After a moment, Zelda realized she was not dreaming, and had in fact revealed herself to the most talkative person in Hyrule.

"Yes," she said, and the word tasted wrong, "I am Zelda."

* * *

Moving slowly down the tunnel, Link was beginning to wonder if he wouldn't be stuck beneath the earth until he joined the re-dead.

"So you were wrong," Link muttered at Navi, "and now we're in a tunnel."

"_I _was wrong?" Navi darted in front of his eyes, sending white stars across his vision, "It was your idea to follow the guy!"

"Wait," Link stopped walking, realizing the white streak in his vision hadn't gone away. He pointed toward the light, and Navi floated away from him, looking at it.

"A... door?" Navi asked.

Link sprinted toward it, not caring what Navi's analysis was. The light got brighter and larger as he ran toward it, and the outline of stairs appeared through the doorway.

As he reached the stairs, he could see the sliver of a brighter light from above them. The stairs lead to a square opening, which was covered by something made of stone. The uncovered edges were letting the dim light in.

"Daylight," Navi said dramatically, "finally!"

Link flexed his fingers and pushed against the stone above him. He heaved the thing upward and it tipped over, exposing the bright blue sky.

He grasped both sides of the hole and pulled himself up as Navi flew past him.

The daylight was blinding, but after his eyes adjusted, Link realized he hadn't gone as far as he'd thought. They were in the Kakariko Cemetery, and he'd just climbed out of a grave.

Link shivered despite himself and stood up, glancing around. The burial grounds were deserted, save for a wandering Poe.

"Link!" Navi shouted from far above.

"What," he called back in annoyance.

"Link," her voice was laced with panic, "You have to see this! Get up here, now!"

The concern in her tone was enough to convince him, and Link ran for the gravekeeper's hut, launching himself onto it with a well-timed jump. He stood and gazed over the cemetery gates. What he saw froze his blood.

"Nayru..." he breathed.

In the valley beneath, Kakariko Village was burning.

* * *

Ganondorf arrived in the midst of the chaos, deeming the event important enough to warrant travel by magic. He appeared on the roof of the Skulltula house, overlooking the town.

Nabooru had herded the villagers into the center of the town, forming a crowd around the well. Meanwhile, the Gerudos had set fire to the houses, vacant or otherwise. The smoke drifted up high into the air, catching beneath the clouds and blotting out the sun.

If the Hero was here, this display was guaranteed to draw him out.

Building a charge of energy in his hand, Ganondorf knelt and slammed his fist into the roof beneath his feet. The yellow magic rippled through the house, setting it afire. Ganondorf leapt from the burning roof and landed on a ledge far below. The ground shook mightily beneath him.

He looked up at the terrified villagers and smiled. Theatrics were always a favorite of his.

"My lord," Nabooru was moving down the central stairs, "there is no sign of the boy, but his Sheikah friend passed through."

The Thief King nodded distantly, "You have guards at the gates."

"To Death Mountain and to the fields. No one will escape or enter without our knowledge."

A vague throbbing in Ganondorf's hand caused it to twitch. He recognized the feeling with a jolt of pleasure.

"He's here," Ganondorf said, a smile twisting the side of his mouth.

"The Sheikah?" Nabooru asked blankly.

"The boy," her king chuckled, "I can feel his power."

"Power soon to be yours, my lord."

He laughed again, "By the way, I received your gift."

Her eyes flashed, "Did you enjoy it?"

"Very much so."

He glanced over the crowd. The villagers were huddled in small groups, clinging to each other pitifully. Only two bodies lay on the ground.

Nabooru followed his gaze, "They resisted when we attempted to search them."

"Who were they?"

"No one of importance. A construction worker and a lunatic with some sort of musical instrument. He kept yelling about the wind."

Ganondorf considered them a moment, then decided Nabooru's judgement was sound. She always was the most competent fighter under his command. He could trust her on such trivial matters.

"Good," he brushed past her, admiring the gleam of his black armor in the sunlight, "And tell your guards to be alert."

"They always are, my lord."

He turned, "Of course they are. That's why we lost him in the first place, isn't it?"

Nabooru barely concealed her furious glare. Ganondorf smirked and walked away from her, moving toward the mass of Hylians in the center of the town.

He nodded to one of the Gerudo guards, then gestured to a young girl clutching her mother's leg. The guard moved forward.

Ganondorf drew his sword as the child tried to escape behind her sobbing mother's skirts.

"If need be," he called, "kill the mother as well."

He allowed his eyes to search the town for signs of the Hero as he savored the smells of charred wood and flesh.

If the boy was here, he couldn't afford to wait much longer.

* * *

Link crouched in the entrance way to the cemetery path. The Gerudo guards hadn't spotted him, and the villagers were too terrified to look away from their burning homes. Ganondorf stood just beneath the Skulltula house, which was burning wildly on its ledge.

"Damn him," Link breathed.

"Link, we can't attack him now," Navi was whispering into his ear, "there's too many of them, and we'd be wide open."

"I am going to kill him."

"Are you listening?!"

Link let his senses buzz and drown Navi's voice out. He glanced over the houses and buildings, trying to discern any winning strategy.

His eyes snapped back to Ganondorf, who was heading toward the villagers. The king nodded to a Gerudo, then pointed at the crowd. The Gerudo moved forward, reaching for something.

Link's breath caught in his throat as the red-haired women dragged a little girl free of the crowd. She held her scimitar out above the girl's head, waving it slowly back and forth in front of the villagers.

Ganondorf stepped forward, sword in hand.

"Navi..." Link heard himself say.

"Don't!" she was whispering.

But he was already standing, the arrow was notched, then it flew across the short space and buried itself in the Gerudo guard's chest. She fell backwards with a short cry and the child ran back to her mother.

All eyes turned to stare at the Hero.

He stepped out from behind the rock wall, notching another arrow. He saw Gerudo archers readying themselves from various elevated places.

Near the well, Ganondorf watched in obvious amusement.

"Good shot, kid," he said.

There was a panicked silence. A poorly-timed crash resounded as the Skulltula house caved in on itself, the flames roaring higher.

"Link..." came Navi's voice in his ear, high-pitched and frightened, "You picked one hell of a day to die."

Ganondorf slowly raised a hand in the air, "Stand down."

The archers lowered their bows, and the guards turned back to their duty.

Link was confused, but only for the moment.

"This is personal," the false king finished, his hand falling to his side.

"Shoot him," Navi whispered, "Shoot him right now."

Over the sounds of the burning houses and crying villagers, Link could barely hear Ganondorf say, "Try it, Hero boy."

Link released the arrow with a roar, drawing his sword and charging forward.


	7. The Second Cataclysm

In the deep recesses of the Sacred Realm, far beneath the tallest ghostly mountain peak, a great rumble began to shake the ground. Within the rock, the powers of fate were stirring from their long sleep.

The goddesses' chamber, hidden from sight in a cave formed of bone, contained three crystal coffins. Inside were glowing figures, the creators of Hyrule.

Farore awoke first. Her bright green eyes opened to show her a sight she had hoped never to see. The coffin around her cracked loudly, then shattered.

She sat up, brushing the tiny crystal shards from her naked body and looking about the dark chamber. The jagged white walls glowed green, red and blue in the light of the cavern's occupants. Her sisters slept on.

She recalled her dreams of Hyrule, and of the great war. She knew of the battle for the future of both realms, still felt the echoes of the fight, but could not understand why she had been pulled away.

_Why am I awake?_ she asked the walls.

Farore waited, but they did not answer.

The walls were carved from the very skeleton of the mountain, the Sacred Realm's mirror of Death Mountain. The mountain had long volunteered its body for the protection of the goddesses.

Concerned, Farore stood and walked weakly to a wall. She pressed her glowing hand against it.

With a gasp, she pulled back, recoiling a few steps. The mountain was dead.

_No..._ she held a hand to her mouth, _Have the Sages failed?_

She turned. Behind her, Din and Nayru were still resting peacefully within their crystal sanctuaries. Surely, then, the course of fate had not been interrupted.

A sharp pang in her chest caused Farore to cry out, and she grasped at the spot as she sank to her knees. Her bright green glow weakened as the pain became worse.

She held a hand in the air, and a small white circle materialized.

_Show me the source of this pain,_ she ordered it.

Within the tiny window, the face of the Hero appeared, screaming in rage. He rushed forward and the Master Sword clanged off an enemy blade.

Farore shook her head slightly, confused. They had chosen the Hero wisely. He could not be defeated any combatant except...

The young man was flung aside as the enemy's blow rattled off his shield. A dark laughter could be heard as the Gerudo king pursued the Hero.

The window disappeared as Farore's hand fell to the ground. She knelt for a moment, shocked.

Her visions never lied, but this one could not be true. The goddesses had ensured the Hero's victory, had planned so carefully and made so many sacrifices... and yet the pain in her chest grew deeper.

She struggled to stand, eyes and hands filling with energy.

_Awaken, sisters,_ she commanded.

The twin coffins broke simultaneously, each one splintering into fragments and revealing a brighter glow from within. Din and Nayru sat up slowly, looking at themselves, each other, and finally at Farore.

Nayru stood up at once, seeing Farore was in pain.

_Sister!_ she cried, _What has happened?_

_Can you not feel it?_ Farore stepped closer, crystal cracking beneath her feet.

Nayru moved to Farore's side, supporting her.

_The Hero.._. Farore grasped Nayru's blue shoulder with as much strength as she could muster.

Nayru shivered as she saw Farore's vision.

Another burst of pain caused Farore to fall to the ground, screaming. Nayru followed her sister, cradling Farore against her body. Din leapt across the room and knelt beside them.

_But sister, it cannot be,_ Nayru was saying frantically, _fate follows our command!_

Din looked up at her, savage face glowing with red fire, _No longer, it would seem. We must move ahead with our second plan._

_No!_ Farore yelled at her, still clutching her chest.

_Din, we cannot..._ Nayru began, trailing off as her hand moved slowly to her heart.

_It is too late,_ Din said heavily, _I feel it as well._

_The Hero..._

_Will---_

_Fail._

_

* * *

  
_

The arrow was thrown aside by Ganondorf's magic, but the distraction allowed Link to pull his shield from his back and shove his arm through the straps.

He brought the Master Sword down over Ganondorf's head. The Gerudo parried the blow easily with his own dark blade. The discordant noise echoed as the two men moved apart.

There was a pause as the opponents took measure of each other. Ganondorf smiled at Link and adjusted his grip on his sword.

"No tricks, kid," he called.

Link nodded, taking the opportunity to drop his travel bag beside the hostage villagers. The little girl he had saved grasped the bag with her tiny hand and pulled it toward her.

"So you know," Navi clutched his shirt, balancing on his shoulder, "this is the dumbest decision you have ever made."

"Thanks," Link muttered, pushing gold hair from his eyes.

The smoke wafted across the village center, obscuring the distance between Link and his adversary. He heard Ganondorf chuckle.

"Move!" Navi said quickly.

Link ran forward, shield aloft. A glint of metal just in front of him and faint footfalls gave his enemy's positon away. He blocked Ganondorf's oncoming blow and dodged to his left, skidding to a stop on the first of the central stairs. The air was still grey.

Ganondorf charged after him. Their swords crossed, the black sword striking the legendary blade with a ferocious clang. Ganondorf was suddenly inches from Link's face.

"You're not fast enough," the king barked.

Link struggled to hold the Master Sword against Ganondorf's uphill advantage. His arms shook with the effort. He stepped down another stair.

"Hasn't your little Sheikah friend taught you anything?"

Ganondorf swung his sword hard to the left, the metal shrieking as Link was knocked back. He stumbled backwards down the steps. He landed on his back, crying out as his spine made contact with the stone stairway.

"Right!" Navi yelled in his ear.

He rolled to the right, hearing Ganondorf's blade dig into the rock just beside his head.

"Son of a bitch!" Link shouted, swinging his sword at the sound. He was rewarded by a roar of pain from Ganondorf.

Link heaved himself to his feet, leaning against one of the rock walls enclosing the stairway. Ganondorf was bent over, holding his left arm close to his body. Blood was dripping down his fingers.

Breathing heavily, Ganondorf looked up at Link. He wrapped his cape around his wounded arm and began to smile.

"What are you waiting for?!" Navi hissed.

Link simply watched the evil king, holding back.

"You wouldn't attack a wounded man?" the Gerudo asked, amused, "How honorable of you."

"I'm giving you a chance," Link said boldly, "Take your soldiers and leave. You and I can finish this another day."

"Nice bluff," Ganondorf straightened, holding his sword before him.

Link rushed forward, blade held low. As he reached Ganondorf, he swung his sword suddenly upward, forcing the king to block with his uninjured arm. The black metal gauntlet cracked beneath the Master Sword. A burst of purple energy exploded from Ganondorf's wrist, sending Link flying backward.

The Hero slammed into the rock wall, sliding down it. His head began to throb as he pushed weakly against the wall, trying to lift himself. His vision split into multiples, and the ground moved beneath him.

"Get up!" Navi was darting in front of him, "Get up, get up!"

An arrow flew past the fairy, and she ducked, hiding in Link's hair.

"Hold!" Ganondorf screamed at the Gerudos.

Link closed and opened his eyes rapidly, trying to regain his bearings. He closed his hand tightly, feeling a quick buzzing in his palm.

"No tricks, huh," he mumbled.

Ganondorf laughed, "Consider it a compliment. I wasn't expecting that."

Link shook his head, and instantly Ganondorf was right in front of him, holding him against the wall.

"I have to say, kid, I expected more fight than this."

Link smiled, then opened his palm.

Ganondorf looked down at the Hero's open hand, where a tiny glowing fireball sat.

Link pressed his hand hard against the ground, and the fireball exploded into a burning sphere. The shield pushed outward, knocking Ganondorf back.

As the spell burned out, Link forced himself to stand and readied his sword. On the ground, Ganondorf was pushing himself up to his knees. To Link's shock, the man began to laugh.

Ganondorf stood up, unscathed.

He darted to Link's right, up the central stairs. Link whirled, but his vision was still blurry. He held up his sword, guarding blindly.

Navi pulled his hair in the opposite direction.

He heard a soft noise to his left, and turned to block Ganondorf's attack. Their blades bounced apart with an almighty peal. Ganondorf snarled and backed away.

Link ducked to the right, but Ganondorf had disappeared. Link's hazy eyes could not find his enemy. He glanced up the stairs at the horrified villagers, and at the Gerudos, who looked confused. He turned in a quick circle, alone beneath Kakariko Village.

"What..." he asked the air.

"Link!" Navi screamed.

The Hero spun around in time to see the black sword curving upward toward him. He heard a grotesque, wet noise, and felt a sharp pain just beneath his ribcage. For a moment, he wondered why he could not move.

As a hollow feeling spread through his chest, he stared at Ganondorf, who smiled serenely over his wounded arm. His other arm was outstretched, holding the hilt of a black sword. The line of the blade ended at Link's tunic, where an oval of deep red was seeping into the surrounding green.

Link could barely hear Navi whimpering from his shoulder.

"Sorry, kid," Ganondorf said quietly.

The king pulled his hand back, and Link felt the metal of the sword moving through him and brushing against the skin of his back. The tip spread fiery pain through Link's body, and the hot metal burned the skin on his chest as it appeared, covered in blood.

He fell to the ground, sprawling sideways. The pain blinded him and threatened to tear him apart. His hand sought out the wound, but could not halt the surge of blood. The grass beneath him was wet and hot. He could hear Navi crying.

Above, the remains of the sun were blacked out by the outline of the King of Thieves.

Link's mind raced with thoughts, but a single voice told him he could not move. He would not get up. The burning in his chest was too strong. The sky began to grow darker, and the sunlight was shrinking.

A distant call sounded.

"Zelda..." he whispered back to it, choking on a hot liquid in the back of his throat.

"Now then..." Ganondorf held his hand over Link's body.

Yellow energy began to swirl around the Hero's left hand, where the triforce mark of courage burned a triangular hole in the leather of his gauntlet. Tiny beams of light rose from the mark and drifted to Ganondorf's waiting hand.

"No," Link clenched his fist weakly, and the magic flow stopped.

Zelda's voice reached him again.

"Sorry..." he murmured to her, blood spilling over his lips.

He could barely see the dark shape of a man who stood over him, straining his hand furiously in an attempt to absorb Link's power. Shadowy wisps of yellow floated through the air.

Link's vision finally went black and a faraway notion told him he was dying. Images of a little girl he had met long ago echoed through his mind. He saw her smile. Her face disappeared into the darkness.

He felt vaguely as if he were falling asleep.


	8. Dark

Zelda stared blankly at the wall of the cavern, unable to relax despite her exhaustion. Her strained nerves were causing her to glance obsessively over the blue marble room, and a curious pain kept stinging in her left hand.

The hours were passing at a nauseating crawl. Impa had suggested they rest in the cavern for the night and allow Domel to return to Kakariko. He would come back in the morning to report whether Link had moved on.

The princess let out a quiet sigh, closing her eyes. Her fingers traced across her stomach to the sore spot above her hip. The wound had all but healed, the only evidence a bruise and a scaly place where the Master Sword had burned her flesh.

A faint noise elsewhere in the tunnels caused her to open her eyes once more, but the dim light yielded no new spectacle.

She chided herself for her nervousness and looked down at Impa.

The Sheikah was sleeping peacefully, her head resting on her elbow. Her silver hair had fallen free of its tie and flowed down around her shoulders.

Zelda reflected that Impa's place was in the Sacred Realm, not guarding Hyrule's disaster-prone royalty. Guilt clouded her mind for a moment, but she banished it quickly. She needed all the help in the world.

Another noise echoed through the tunnels, closer this time. A voice wafted after it.

Reaching out a shaky hand, Zelda touched Impa's shoulder to wake her.

As the Sheikah sat up, louder sounds approached. Footfalls and stumbling noises, and a man's voice calling out.

"What is he saying?" Zelda whispered.

Impa held up a hand indicating silence.

The voice became clearer.

"_Impa!"_ the muffled sound rang out, "_Impa!"_

"Stay here," the Sheikah stood and moved rapidly to the heavy cavern door. She slid it partially aside and let out a low whistle.

"Impa," came Domel's voice, hoarse and urgent. He stumbled into view, brushing past Impa and into the room. Impa let the door slide shut as the shopkeeper leaned against a wall, trying to breathe.

"The..." he repeated, "the village..."

Zelda's body went cold before the man could explain.

"What about the village?" Impa asked slowly, her face ashen.

Domel looked slowly down at his arm. He was bleeding badly from several deep cuts.

"Domel!" Impa shouted.

He clasped a hand over his arm, he large frame shaking, "Ganondorf..."

Zelda stood abruptly, ignoring a sharp twinge of pain in her side.

Impa grasped Domel's uninjured arm, looking into his eyes, "What did Ganondorf do?"

"S' burning..." he mumbled, beginning to slide down the wall, "the people..."

"Sleep," Impa ordered, her voice laden with magic.

The man collapsed to the ground. Impa pulled a roll of cloth from the bag at her side and began to bandage his arm.

Zelda lifted her stinging hand in the air, watching the triforce symbol glow as her power began to transform her body. As her skin darkened and her muscle changed shape, she wondered how many had died.

When the light faded and she stood in the flickering light, male, she looked to Impa.

"We'll take the shortcut," said Sheik.

* * *

The night was cool outside the village gates. Riding behind her king, Nabooru attempted to stifle her disappointment.

They had left a contingent of warriors in control of Kakariko for the night. In the meantime, Ganondorf had insisted Nabooru and her best fighters accompany him back to the tower. Any villager who even mentioned a revolt would be executed.

The heavy hoofbeats thundered over the fields as the moon began to rise. The sounds of night built to a slow crescendo as the Gerudos crossed the Zora River.

Ganondorf had been silent since giving the order to leave Kakariko. Nabooru could see he was furious over something, but did not dare to ask what.

Their progress slowed as they reached the decimated drawbridge leading to Castletown. The horses moved gingerly through the moat on the uneven wood. Nabooru drew up her feet as water splashed into her shoes.

A mournful sound from above caused the Gerudos to look up. In the moonlit night, a large shape was circling the eastern fields.

"Damnable bird," Ganondorf muttered, urging his hose onward.

Nabooru hung back, watching the the creature fly overhead. It appeared to be an enormous owl, flapping its wings awkwardly to dip low over Kakariko Village. The owl let out a low, drawn cry.

Several women behind Nabooru began to whisper. They had seen the owl before, perched above the trail to the hideout.

The bird cried again and Nabooru felt a small chill trace her back. She had never heard an owl make such a sound.

"Nabooru," Ganondorf's rough voice brought her attention back down, "I'd like to enter the tower before daybreak."

With the voice in her head swearing violently, she motioned to her soldiers and tapped her steed on. The horse let out a disgruntled noise, but trotted forward through the water.

A loud, shrieking wail sounded from above, and the horses reared as one, sending several Gerudos splashing into the moat. Nabooru held on to her mount's neck, yelling at the animal. As the stallion calmed, Nabooru glanced up to see Ganondorf and his shadow steed waiting calmly at the gates.

There was a rush of air from behind her and a piercing repeat of the owl's cry. Nabooru's horse panicked and charged into the moat. Nabooru found herself underwater, then thrust into the air as her steed began to swim away. Soaked, the Gerudo leader let go of the reins and swam back to the bridge. She stood on the exposed wood and walked to Ganondorf's side, wringing out her long red hair. The king was chucking to himself.

"What," she hissed, "_is_ that thing."

"I've seen it with the boy. It's no ordinary bird."

"Gerudos," Nabooru growled at her waterlogged soldiers, "fire at will."

Within moments, arrows began to arc past the bird. One or two magic-tipped arrows created bright streaks through the sky. The owl drew back and flew away, disappearing over the crest of a hill.

Ganondorf turned his horse about and urged it through the dark gateway.

"They have impeccable aim," he called to Nabooru.

Watching him ride into the shadowy city, she swore to herself she would see him dead. With the Hero gone, she no longer needed his protection.

She glanced over her soldiers as they attempted to coax their frightened horses back onto the collapsed bridge. She rubbed her eyes.

Regrettable as it was, she would need outside help to overthrow the usurper king.

* * *

"Don't move" Sheik whispered.

The Gerudo before him shivered against the tip of a dagger held to her bare back. The gleaming firelight cast wild shadows and glows from the blade of her polearm.

They were standing on the ledge overlooking the entrance to the town, just beneath the watchtower. Several houses were still burning or smoldering. The air was heavy with smoke.

Sheik slid an arm around the Gerudo's throat.

"Who is your leader here?"

"V..Velia," the young woman barely murmured, "the one in green. Down there."

Sheik glanced over the woman's shoulder. On the grass below, a tall Gerudo with long hair was barking out orders.

"Thank you," said Sheik into the guard's ear. He grasped her throat tightly and pushed the knife forward. Her dying groan was stifled by the hand on her neck. She slid noiselessly to the ground.

The disguised princess pressed against the watchtower and glanced at the roof of the witch's potion shop. Impa crouched on the remaining purple tiles, just behind the roof's apex. Their eyes met across the short distance.

A few quick hand gestures passed the newly acquired information to the elder Sheikah. She readied a small blade and moved herself into position.

Zelda looked down at the pacing Velia, wondering if the Gerudo had even considered that she would die tonight.

A quick glint of metal suspended in the firelight was the only trace of Impa's knife. It lodged neatly just beneath Velia's jaw, and she fell backwards, bleeding explosively.

Several nearby Gerudos let out horrified screams, and began running toward their fallen leader. As expected, the entire company of guards began to panic. They abandoned their posts, some rushing to Velia's body, others tearing wildly through the village in search of the assassin.

Zelda ducked to the other side of the tower and hid herself against a fence as Impa leapt silently from the roof, landing behind Zelda. From the opposite side of the fence, Impa whispered to her princess.

"The villagers are locked in the windmill," She drew a long knife from a sheath on her hip, "We take separate paths and meet there. They'll be willing to fight when they see us alive."

Zelda nodded behind her scarf and the two Sheikah moved away from the fence. Impa vanished into the expanse beneath the shops. Zelda hung to the back wall of Impa's house, which was charred but standing.

A Gerudo warrior rushed by, not noticing the Sheikah. Zelda edged around the burnt wall, glancing at the village center. A cluster of Gerudos remained around Velia's body, but none guarded the wreckage of the Skulltula house on the opposite hill.

Seeing her chance, Zelda rushed from her hiding spot and leapt down the ledge before her, landing behind a crate where Impa's house had stood. The Gerudos did not see her. Keeping her body low, she sprinted across the town's blood-spattered central path and pulled herself onto a ledge. The misshapen rubble of the Skulltula house provided her with the perfect cover.

She tiptoed around the burnt boxes and beams, readying throwing knives in her palms. She knelt behind a convenient crate, noticing a charred body to her right. She adjusted her weight silently, barely catching a falling beam as it slid out of place.

"The blade is Sheikah," one of the Gerudo soldiers called to her companions, "That little bastard is here somewhere!"

Zelda watched the guards split apart to begin searching for Sheik. She glanced up at the windmill. The sails of the windmill had burned away, leaving four black marks across the front of the tower. A Gerudo guard stood in the first maintenance doorway, high above the ground.

The princess flexed a muscular arm and pushed off from the burnt ground, darting across an alleyway to stand behind the shooting gallery, whose blackened brick frame was mostly untouched by the fire.

A Gerudo woman rounded the opposite corner, and Sheik's throwing knife buried itself in her eye before she could call out to her companions. Zelda rushed forward and caught the woman as she fell, propping the body against the wall behind her.

She moved silently to the edge of the building, peering across the expanse to the windmill stairs. She leaned around the corner and saw two Gerudos standing by the well.

Zelda leaned back, trying to think. She wouldn't be able to kill both of them without drawing attention. She wished vainly for Link's hookshot.

An idea formed in her mind, and she turned to the body behind her. Biting back the urge to vomit, she leaned over the dead Gerudo and placed wrapped fingers around the hilt of the deadly knife. She pulled it out, effectively covering her chest and arm in the Gerudo's blood.

She stood and looked back at the Skulltula house, remembering the precarious beam. She would get only one shot; she needed her remaining knives.

Her arm snapped out in the familiar gesture, and the blade soared high to hit the beam at its weakest point. The wooden shape shifted slowly, then tipped over to crash into the wreckage. Zelda heard Gerudos yelling.

She sprinted back to the corner, knowing the Gerudos by the well had followed the sound. She bolted for the bottom of the windmill stairway, charging up to the doorway as quickly as she could. She heard a choking noise far above her and knew Impa had taken care of the guard in the maintenance door.

Zelda threw open the door to the windmill hut. The first thing she saw was a blade curving downward at her face, and she dodged back as the sword tip sliced through her cowl. Her fingertips stretched to ready a knife when the Gerudo before her fell limply to the ground. Impa stood behind her, eyes blazing.

Zelda stepped wordlessly into the hut and shut the door behind herself. Stepping over the dead Gerudo, she fingered the edges of Sheikah crest hanging over her chest. The faithful eye had been cut in two.

"The Gerudos are distracted," Impa was saying, "we have at least a few minutes."

Zelda nodded, looking over the crowd of villagers. She recognized all the faces, but noticed several were absent. They stood on the motionless mill, watching the Sheikah in amazement.

"Sheik," an old man moved forward, "you're alright."

"Fine," the young man answered tersely, "where are the others?"

"Kide and the music maker are dead," Impa said softly, "and Domel was with us."

"He's safe?" called Domel's wife from across the hut.

"At the moment, yes," Impa told her.

Sheik moved through the crowd of people, glancing upward at the stone doorway where a dead guard was slumped. A light tap on his leg brought his attention to the little girl beside him.

"Yes?" he knelt down to look her in the eyes, pulling down the white scarf which covered his mouth.

The little girl tucked brown hair behind a pointed ear, obviously frightened, "They don't know, but..."

Sheik shook his head slowly, not understanding.

"I have this," she dragged a brown bag across the floor behind her, "It was his."

"Whose was..." the question died on his lips as he recognized Link's travel bag. He reached out a hand for it, seeing his shaky fingers with distant eyes. A deep fear began to build in the princess' heart.

Mismatched eyes gazed sharply at the child before them.

"Where is he?"


	9. One Last Hope

The goddesses sat in their chamber, still as glass. Farore was stretched upon the pedestal that had held her coffin. Din and Nayru were side by side, sitting on a boulder and watching her.

_It should not be, sister,_ Nayru looked to the far wall, _The triforce cannot occupy a dead host._

_I know, _Din answered bluntly.

_We should not even have awoken! We set the path of fate to follow---_

_We were mistaken, Nayru._

Farore writhed against her weakness, the light of her body faded to a dull glimmer. She moaned wordlessly.

Din stood and paced, restless, _We cannot afford to lose the balance, sister. A new sacrifice must be made._

_No!_ Nayru gasped, _Farore forbade us!_

_She is not in a condition to give orders._

_Din, how could you?_

_Enough!_ Din turned fiercely, _If she continues to deny fate, she will kill herself. The power balance must be maintained!_

Nayru stared at her furious sister, shocked. The silence was broken by Farore's groans of pain. Her green aura flickered into near darkness for a moment.

_We must return to Hyrule,_ Din continued, _We have no other choice. If we do nothing, the land will be destroyed._

_But the Hero--- _Nayru stood, pleading, _Farore's power, it remains in---_

Din darted across the small chamber and closed a hand around Nayru's throat. The cerulean goddess struggled against her sister's strength.

_I will not accept failure, _Din hissed, _It is no fault of mine that Farore granted her power to a weak host._

She released Nayru, who collapsed to the bone floor, coughing. Din paced the perimeter of the cavern, then pressed a blazing red hand to the wall. The bone melted beneath her hand, and the mountain began to tremble. As the sanctuary began to crumble, Din turned to look at her sisters.

_I will do what I must to save our land,_ she said, her voice filled with power, _even if it should mean the reign of darkness._

_Din!_ Nayru called, standing slowly.

But the foundation had already fallen, and the mountain was opening to reveal a portal to Hyrule. The white light surrounded the goddesses, the voices of their people calling them home.

* * *

"What was wrong with his original name?" a Gerudo asked her companions, pouring herself a goblet of wine, "Not catchy enough?"

This earned laughter and several catcalls from the nearby warriors.

Nabooru sat in the corner of the soldiers' mess hall, smiling slightly as her women feasted and joked amongst themselves.

Ganondorf had summoned a sizeable audience to announce that he would henceforth be known as Lord Ganon, and that he would officially crown himself King of Hyrule once Zelda was found and eliminated. Nabooru thought it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.

"He has to maintain appearances, right?" asked another young woman, yanking her red hair free of its ponytail, "Ganon, King of Darkness... has kind of a meaner sound."

"I think it's pure disrespectful," shouted an older Gerudo, who was clutching a bottle of wine and appeared somewhat drunk, "His Gerudo mother gave him that name, didn' she?"

A cacophony of cheers echoed through the hall, and Nabooru stood quickly to regain control of her soldiers.

"Enough! Enough," she yelled, and a general hush fell over the assembled women, "let's not forget who we work for."

Several women nodded, but more looked unconvinced.

"We work for you," muttered a teenaged Gerudo, who Nabooru recognized as the messenger from the desert hideout.

"And I say you work for Lord Ganon," Nabooru said despite herself.

Relative silence greeted this statement, and Nabooru sensed the morale in the room threatening to shatter.

"Come on," she raised her voice, "we're here to celebrate, aren't we?"

A chorus of half-hearted cheers followed this.

"We're Gerudo, aren't we? That means three things we're good at. First is stealing, second is fighting, and third," she heaved her goblet into the air, "is drinking until the cucco crows!"

A rowdier cheer met her words, and several women began a drinking chant. Attention gradually turned from Nabooru to the celebration. The Gerudo leader sat back down, frowning.

The soldiers wanted an overthrow every bit as much as Nabooru did. She had to convince them to be patient, or their behavior would alert Ganondorf to her plan. Once he discovered his brainwashing had failed, he would kill Nabooru and tell her soldiers she had betrayed them. She could not allow this to happen.

A slow smile tipped the corner of her lip as she considered her plan. Ganondorf expected a coronation by the end of the season. If Nabooru had her way, he would receive a funeral instead.

"But who will mourn you?" she asked the reflection in her goblet, a dark grin warping her features.

When she could discern an excuse to leave the palace for a few days, she would set her plan into motion.

"And then," she murmured, watching her women as they celebrated their master's victory, "we'll be free, my lord. Your precious wasteland will be ours."

She raised her glass in a salute to the Gerudo soldiers. She had as much time as she needed. The only key now was patience.

* * *

Ganondorf watched the young Gerudo leave the throne room, bowing as she went. He released his concealed grimace of disgust and leaned his chin against an upheld fist.

He had sent for Nabooru. He needed to discuss their next plan.

Thinking of her, he sighed. As useless as she was, her authority over the Gerudos was a comforting asset. Her inevitable death would be more than regrettable.

"My lord?" she stepped through the gap in the heavy doors, her yellow eyes watching him warily.

"Close the door," he ordered her.

She did so, then walked over to him. She stopped on the step just before the throne, her chin tilted toward her king.

He looked her over with some amusement, allowing her a half-smile.

"Nabooru, I have always trusted you with matters of importance."

This was a lie, but appealing to Nabooru's pride had often proved wise in the past.

She nodded.

"Thus," he continued, smile disappearing, "I find it fair to warn you that I have encountered a... snag of sorts."

One of Nabooru's arched eyebrows raised slowly, "Snag?"

Ganondorf glanced away from her, unsure how to phrase his dilemma.

"The boy?" Nabooru enquired softly.

"The Hero," Ganondorf snapped, correcting her.

There was a momentary silence as the king stared intensely at a tapestried wall. He had not planned for this; he should have absorbed the Hero's triforce piece.

"His power..." he finally said, "did not merge with mine."

He looked to Nabooru.

"But..." she began, then stopped. She looked to the ground, obviously confused.

Ganondorf flexed his bandaged arm, cracking his knuckles methodically. He waited as Nabooru searched the ground for an appropriate response to his statement.

"The legends," she began again, "they all said that---"

"I know what they said. Apparently the ancient Hylians were as incompetent as their descendants."

He watched her face as she comprehended the meaning in his words.

"Then... the rest of the legends..." her beautiful face was awestruck.

"They must have left something out," Ganondorf considered, rubbing his jaw, "something key."

Nabooru's face became a mask of earnest helpfulness, an expression Ganondorf found vaguely disturbing on her sharp features.

"He could not have survived," she listed, "and a dead body wouldn't hold that kind of power."

He gave her a patronizing glance, then resumed his consideration of the subject.

"It's almost as if I wasn't strong enough," he mused.

"But my lord, you have the triforce of power. You are stronger than he was."

He continued, lost in thought, "As if my power alone was not enough to..."

His words faltered as a dangerous notion made its way into his head. He leaned back in his throne, vision glazed.

If his power alone was not enough, there was only one greater source.

"All of them..." he whispered, horrified.

"My lord?"

"They had to be together," he said, still staring into oblivion, "all of them."

Nabooru fell instantly silent as she realized exactly what he was saying.

Ganondorf stood, brushing aimlessly past Nabooru as he descended the steps beneath the throne. He felt himself begin to shake, and clenched his fists against it, sending shooting pains up his injured arm.

"Get out," he growled at Nabooru.

"Please," she moved toward him, "my lord, let me---"

"_Nabooru,_" he lowered his voice, "_get out, or I kill you now._"

She froze for a moment, standing just behind him. Then she moved quickly past him, head bowed. She paused again with her hand on the door. Her eyes gleamed at him as she dared to hesitate.

"I... will not tell the soldiers, my lord."

He simply glared at her, imagining ways to murder her.

She gave him a pointedly sad look and opened the dark door, slipping into the carpeted hallway with barely a noise.

As the silence settled around him, Ganondorf finally felt the weight of his mistake. His breath came in short rasps.

"There has to be another way," he said to himself, hating the words.

But if he was wrong... if he had killed his only chance to control the triforce...

He closed his eyes against the thought and tried to calm himself. There was more than one path to any end. He would have to find someone who knew the way.

A nervous breath of laughter escaped his lips.

"Princess," he told the floor, "all roads lead to you."

* * *

"Alright," Impa was telling the villagers, "we'll have two advantages over them. We're uphill, and they're not expecting us."

The people were passing around what arms they had concealed amongst themselves, muttering and whispering excitedly. All were eager for bloodshed.

Sheik was kneeling in front of the little girl who was holding Link's travel bag.

"Please," Sheik took the girl by the shoulders, startling her, "where is he?"

She looked away, shrinking back, "M..mama said not to tell... or the bad women will find him."

"Please, I promise I won't tell them," Sheik said urgently.

The little girl began to cry silently, obviously shaken. Sheik swallowed against a dry throat and tried to hold back the panic in his head.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "I didn't mean to scare you. May I apologize?"

The child nodded.

"My name is Sheik."

"I'm Leeru," she wiped an eye with a small fist.

"Leeru," Sheik continued, glancing over his shoulder to see the villagers preparing for attack, "this bag belongs to a friend of mine. I need to---"

Before he could finish, the child gasped and burst into tears. She pulled away from Sheik's hands and ran through the crowd to grasp at her mother's skirt. The woman glanced at Sheik, then at Impa.

Sheik followed the woman's gaze to see Impa staring at him. She moved her silver head in the direction of the door.

Slinging Link's bag over his shoulder, Sheik stood. He moved silently through the buzzing crowd to Impa's side. His pulse was rushing loudly through his ears.

"The Gerudos are still busy panicking," Impa's voice floated across what seemed like hundreds of miles, "so I suggest we make our move now."

"I..." Sheik took a breath, "Link was here."

Impa's face went blank, her eyes wide.

"I'm going to look for him," Sheik met the elder Sheikah's gaze, "Can you handle them without me?"

"Yes," Impa said hurriedly, "we'll be fine, you have to find him. Lead the children to the back woods, then go."

"Right. The panel is---"

"It still works. Go."

Sheik nodded and slipped back into the throng of people, moving around various upheld weapons. He gave a weak smile to Leeru and her mother as they ushered the other children toward the back of the windmill.

Keeping his mental panic in check, Sheik counted the bricks that made up the back wall. Third column from the support beam, eighth brick from the floor. He pushed hard on the stone and the bricks beside it moved as one, swinging back on a hinge to create a small doorway in the tower.

Sheik stood to one side as several of the village women ushered the children into the smoke-filled night. Leeru's mother gave him an appraising look, holding her daughter in her arms. As the last little boy edged past him, Sheik looked to Impa, who nodded. The men and women between the two Sheikah were armed and ready to fight.

Turning his back on the villagers, Sheik stepped outside and shut the hidden door behind himself. He looked briefly over the women who had accompanied their children out of the windmill.

"You'll need to stay as quiet as possible," he whispered to them, "in case they've set up guards in the forest. I'll get you through the fence..."

Several of them nodded. Leeru's mother pushed her hair back in determination. The potion shop witch looked like she might faint as she leaned on Anju's arm. Behind them, Mamamu Yan's large shape was silhouetted against the night sky. She attempted to flash Sheik a suggestive smile.

"Alright," Sheik muttered, peering around the side of the windmill. The Gerudos were gathered around the tree near the village gates, seemingly re-grouping.

He motioned to the group behind him, running to the edge of the fence where the wood structure met the hillside. Building a magic charge, he pulled out a short knife and drew it down the length of the fence. Blue magic sparked and a segment of fence fell free, creating an opening.

"Go," he whispered gravely.

The women pushed the children ahead, and Sheik counted seven children as they went by. He would make sure to check that number again later.

He caught Anju's arm as she moved past him. Her blue eyes stared at him in mixed fear and resolution.

"There's a dead tree," he said quietly into her ear, "a white oak about a mile in, due northeast. Can you get them there?"

She barely nodded, stiff with apprehension.

"Pry off the wood along the seam, there's a stairway leading to a hidden chamber. Stay there until someone comes to get you."

"Alright," she murmured, and Sheik released her arm. He was surprised when Anju leaned close to him and pressed something into the palm of his hand, her red hair brushing his face. She took an uneven step back, then followed the others into the darkness of the forest.

Behind her disguise, Zelda said a silent prayer for them. She turned toward Kakariko in time to see Impa and the villagers rush from the front door of the Windmill, charging down the steps at the shocked Gerudos.

As the two forces met, Zelda tore her eyes away from the early battle to the object in her palm. Anju had given her a small piece of paper, folded over multiple times by nervous hands.

Zelda unfolded it, heart beginning to race again.

The words staring up at her were barely visible in the darkness, but they filled her with hope and terror.

_**Dampe's Hut.**_


	10. Playthings of Dawn

The path to the graveyard was empty, and Zelda was tempted to abandon her disguise. She did not, however, and made her way through the overgrown grass toward the gate.

Her stomach was clenched tightly, her pulse deafening her. Her mind filled with possibilities, none of them even slightly comforting.

Anju's note could not have meant anything but Link's location. If Link had seen Ganondorf burning the village, he would have tried to stop him. He would never have stopped fighting unless he'd been hurt. Then again, if he were hurt, the Gerudos would have captured him and Ganondorf...

She stopped herself from thinking. The thought of Link being injured or worse was more than she could handle. She was breathing loudly, and felt herself teetering on the edge of tears.

Stepping through the gate, she looked immediately to her right at the tiny, dilapidated hut. She could see two distinct lights in its foggy window. One was a lantern's glow. The other was a dim blue flicker.

Losing all reason, Zelda sprinted toward the hut. She accidentally slammed into the door, then pulled at it, finding it locked. The noise drew a muffled shriek from inside the house.

"Navi," Zelda called in a hoarse whisper, "it's Sheik. Please, open the door!"

There was a silence, and Zelda leaned desperately against the rotting wooden frame. She clutched the doorknob with straining fingers. As the pause stretched, Zelda felt her heart begin to sink. The fear threatened to turn into actual pain. Her eyes began to sting.

"_Please_," she called again, unable to drive horrible images from her mind, "Please, Navi..."

A click finally sounded, and Sheik leaned away from the door as it opened inward.

Navi hovered in the firelight, her glow barely visible.

Behind her, lying on a decaying table, was the Hero of Time.

Zelda heard a halting breath escape her lips. The world became hushed. She felt herself move toward him, and was distantly aware that Navi was screaming at her. Her vision blurred with tears as a thousand voices in her head repeated the same words again and again.

He was not breathing.

A stabbing feeling in her chest caused Zelda to lean on the table beside him, and she watched the hands of a stranger reach for Link's face.

Someone had closed his eyes. Trying desperately not to collapse, Zelda outstretched her fingers to brush his golden hair out of his face once more.

The action brought more tears. She looked away, but her eyes sought out the gaping wound in his chest, and Zelda found herself on her knees. She pressed a hand to her mouth, pushing against her lips until they hurt. Her arm shook.

"_Where were you?!_" Navi was sobbing, "He saved your life, and you left him to _die!_"

Zelda opened bleary eyes, choking back a scream of anguish. Navi was right. Of course she was right.

The princess drew back her hand, staring dumbly at it. The blurred white and tan shape looked foreign to her. Her fingers twitched, and a sudden realization caused her to cry harder. Clutching herself, she doubled over.

"Oh, Goddesses..." she moaned, shutting her eyes hard.

The stinging in her hand had been her triforce mark trying to warn her. She had felt him die.

"No..." her last hope of strength faded away as she clawed at her short hair, cap falling to the ground, "No, please..."

"Will you shut up?!" Navi screamed, "You don't deserve to mourn him, you _bastard!_"

"I'm so sorry..." Sheik's voice repeated uselessly to the floor, "Link, I'm so sorry..."

The empty pain overtook her again, and she sprawled across the wooden floorboards, slamming a fist against them.

"_Get up!"_ the fairy's voice cracked, "_Get up, you coward!"_

But Zelda could not move. For the first time, she no longer cared whose body she was in. All she could feel was the horrible, twisting pain.

She would not feel his hands again, or hear his voice. He would never know she'd been with him all along, except when he'd needed her most. She thought of his smile and wished she could stop her heart.

"_Please..."_ she breathed, "I'm so sorry..."

Her voice became inaudible as she gave in to the sadness.

"..._ I loved you."_

_

* * *

  
_

The goddesses surfaced in the Temple of Time. Din held Farore tightly in strong arms, and Nayru stood behind, nervous.

_This place has changed,_ Din glanced over the holy building.

The structure was new, though the altar and hidden chamber were much the same. The colored glows of the goddesses sent bright glares across the white stone walls. A dog howled somewhere in the distant darkness.

_We should take mortal forms, _Nayru was saying, _or else we will cause hysteria._

Din shrugged and looked for a place to set Farore down. The eldest goddess had not awoken since the Hero's death. Her green glimmer was almost invisible, leaving her glasslike body a cold grey-white.

Stepping into the sacred chamber, Din placed Farore gently down in front of the Master Sword's pedestal. The Goddess of Power regarded the empty stand with some disgust.

_She should have known he would fail,_ She muttered, drawing a frustrated noise from Nayru.

Din stood, holding out her arms and gathering her power. Red light blurred the shape of her body until she could not see. When the light faded, she was mortal, an ordinary Gerudo with angry red eyes.

She turned, and Nayru glanced back at her, a blue-haired Hylian.

"We should seal her here," Din said, new voice rough.

"Yes," Nayru rubbed at her throat, "but be careful. The magic flare must be small."

"Fine."

"If _your_ host sees it---"

"Yes, my host, who lives still," Din snapped, readying her tanned fingers, "Will you help me or not?"

Nayru moved lightly up the steps to stand beside her sister, pale form shaking. She extended her hand over Farore's unmoving body. The green goddess was barely breathing.

Their magic glowed white, fine tendrils of energy floating down over Farore to cover her weak frame. The brightness intensified, then faded, and Farore had vanished. Din reached down to touch the invisible body of her sister, face concerned.

"We have little time," she said.

"I know."

"I will travel to the West. You take the opposite path, and the first to find a suitable sacrifice lights a signal."

"But, Din..." Nayru began, already grieving, "Farore ordered us not to."

Din closed her eyes, "I suppose you would rather watch her die and see Hyrule plunged into darkness."

"No... of course, no."

"Then do as I say."

Nayru held out a pacifying hand, "Din... Farore still clings to the Hero. If she does not bestow her gift on a new host, then..."

"So we stop her," Din stood, facing Nayru with fury spread across her features, "I will not lose my sister and my land in one blow."

"It is her choice!" Nayru protested, "We agreed Hyrule would never fall to---"

"I will make her choice for her," Din growled.

The finality of the statement caused Nayru to recoil, and she held her arm up in a vague display of self-defense. Din laughed at her.

"Your methods have failed, sisters," Din looked from Nayru's pitiful stance to Farore's unconscious form, "I have waited long enough."

Nayru shook her head in terror, "Din, please, you cannot do this."

Din's body was illuminated with red light, and Nayru charged at her, trying desperately to catch hold of her before she could warp out of the temple.

"It is the age of Power, Sister," Din called as she disappeared.

Nayru listened until the echoes faded, then began moving stiffly away from the hidden chamber. A false wall materialized behind her as she stepped past the altar. In a flash of blue, she pulled herself from the last safe haven and back into the world of her creation.

She had precious few days to save Hyrule from Din's wrath.

* * *

Zelda had lost track of the hours long before the hut's door finally reopened. Two footsteps on the wooden floor and a drawn gasp indicated Impa's presence. The door was shut heavily.

"How..." came Impa's weary voice.

From her place on the floor, Zelda could not answer. With bloodshot eyes, she stared into the dark recess beneath the table where Link's body lay. The sound of her breathing filled her ears and awakened her hatred.

"Zelda..." Impa sounded almost childlike in her horror, "How could this... He..."

The name stabbed at the princess, but she said nothing. There was no harm in it. Navi had flown off some time ago, too overcome to stay.

"Here," Impa's hands were around Zelda's shoulders, "child, sit up."

Zelda did so, hearing the desperation in her guardian's voice. She turned her exhausted eyes to face the Sheikah.

Impa's face, usually calm or serious, was carved with grief. Her wide eyes searched Zelda's for even the smallest hope. The expression frightened the princess, and she reached shaking arms around Impa's familiar frame.

"It's my fault," Zelda whispered into the Sheikah's shoulder, "Should have stayed. Should have... told him."

"Hush," Impa's hand was running over Zelda's shortened hair, "hush, dear one, we could not have known."

But the gentle drops of water sliding down Zelda's neck told her Impa was crying, and this knowledge hurt her almost as much as Link's lifelessness. She clutched Impa tightly, whimpering.

"There, child," Impa's voice was barely controlled.

Zelda buried her face into Impa's shoulder, closing her stinging eyes. She had run out of tears, and all that was left was the cold emptiness. She shivered against it and moaned.

Out of some remaining instinct from Zelda's childhood, Impa began to hum quietly. Zelda's grip on her protector tightened as the royal lullaby reached her ears. She wished she could cry again to drown out the comforting sound.

The lantern finally flickered out, leaving the women to the early light of the new day.

* * *

The morning came without the sun, the grey clouds hanging low over northern Hyrule letting out small bursts of rain. Ganondorf watched the dreary weather from a high window.

Standing in a private study, he contemplated his plan with great unease. A rider had been sent to the soldiers in Kakariko. She would return with their casualty report. Hopefully they had not killed too many villagers.

Ganondorf needed as many Hylians as he could gather. He planned to confront the princess directly. He would kill one Hylian for every day she remained out of sight. She would have to face him eventually.

He scowled at the blackening sky as lightning began to fork down. Once he had Zelda within his grasp, he would have to improvise. He could not take her power without the Hero's triforce piece, and in order to obtain this, he would have to find the next Hero. He only hoped this process would not take years rather than months.

"Ganondorf."

He whirled, furious.

"How dare you?!" he shouted at the Gerudo who'd interrupted his thoughts. He had ordered his people not to disturb him. And if they wanted to live, they knew better than to address him without a title.

The Gerudo appeared unfazed, and awarded the dark king a pacifying look.

Enraged, Ganondorf stalked across the room, drawing his sword.

"Choose your words well," he leveled the blade at her throat, "they will be your last."

"Strong words," she smiled, "I chose you for a reason."

Ganondorf was too taken aback to kill her. Instead, he stared at her eyes, which shone a curious shade of red. He had not seen her before, and was momentarily distracted by the way her long hair fell free beside the curve of her neck.

"What are you talking about?" he asked roughly.

She stared evenly at him, "Set aside your weapon and I will explain."

"You will explain _now_."

She sighed, "You should sit down."

"_You_---"

He found himself thrown backwards through the air. He hit the wall beneath the window with some force, slamming his head against the stone sill. His sword fell from his hand.

Catching his breath, he grimaced at the woman standing over him. Her magic had cut through his shields without effort.

"Better," she smirked, "You ought to be on the ground before your goddess."

Had she not tossed him across the room, Ganondorf would have assumed she was insane. But her power and the glow in her eyes were enough to quell such thoughts. He simply breathed, waiting for her to continue.

"Do you realize what you have done?" she asked, smile vanishing.

"Yes," he chanced.

She knelt down before him, cupping his cheek in her hand. He made a move to stop her, but was suddenly immobilized. He growled at her.

"No," the glow in her eyes faded as she ran her fingers along the length of his beard, "You have no idea. But that is to be expected. We are Power, not Wisdom."

Ganondorf would have responded to the insult in vicious words, were his throat not frozen in place. He glared furiously at the woman, thoughts rushing.

"You do not believe in me," she seemed to realize, grasping his chin, "You wish for further proof."

She stood and moved back. She reached out her arms and her body burst into flames. Motionless on the ground, Ganondorf half-hoped he was hallucinating.

The fire died away, and the woman stood as she had been, untouched. Even her crimson clothing was intact. Her red eyes continued to glow like the flames.

"And yet you are still unconvinced," she seemed amused, "But no matter."

She knelt before him again and waved a hand. Ganondorf's body relaxed against the stone wall, mobility returned. He rubbed his sore arm, wary not to reach for his sword.

"Forgive me for being skeptical," he muttered, "the goddesses left the land thousands of years ago."

"The ancient texts have led you astray before, have they not?"

He stared at her then, her words filling his mind.

She stood up, crossing the room to inspect a shelf full of scrolls, "You have need of my help, and I have need of yours."

"What---"

"When you killed the Hero, my fool sister refused to let go of his soul. You did not force her to let him go because you failed to unite the triforce before running him through."

Ganondorf noted the barb in her voice, "An oversight I do not intend to repeat."

"Calm yourself, I already said the tales themselves led you astray. In any case, you have --- _inadvertently_," she turned to acknowledge him, "created a serious rift in both our plans."

The Gerudo king began to take the woman seriously as the word _both_ settled into his consciousness. He was not above admitting he needed help, and as this madwoman was clearly a powerful sorceress, he could do worse in the way of allies.

"Go on," he urged.

"Have your attention now, do I?" she tilted her head to the side, red hair cascading over her shoulders.

"What rift?"

She crossed her arms, looking displeased, "Due to the stalemate you created, Farore is dying. Her power has not been passed on. If she dies, the Triforce will be forever broken, and this land will be destroyed."

Ganondorf considered this in the silence. The thought both horrified and appealed to him. The notion of a destroyed Hyrule pleased him greatly, but he would prefer it destroyed on his terms.

Holding the back of his head, Ganondorf stood slowly. He faced the newcomer, the beginnings of a dark smile on his lips.

"What do you need?" he asked her.

She grinned, a gesture which very nearly frightened the Gerudo king.

"I believe," she stepped closer to him, until she was leaning against his breastplate, "a Hylian sacrifice is in order."

The triforce mark on his hand flashed momentarily. Looking into the fires of her eyes, Ganondorf allowed himself to be convinced, and returned her savage grin.

"Anything you wish, my goddess."


	11. Control

Zelda sat on an overturned bench, uncomfortable in her disguise but too upset to care. Her wrapped fingers rubbed at tired eyes as she stared across the room at Link's body.

The villagers, having defeated the outnumbered Gerudos with relative ease, had moved the Hero's corpse into the abandoned potion shop, the only building left untouched. The Gerudos had used it as their headquarters.

No one had done anything to prepare the body for burial. No one had done much at all since recapturing the village. The shock of the Hero's death had finally settled over the distraught Hylians, and they sat quietly in clusters throughout the decimated town, mourning their hopeless future.

Zelda sighed, looking down at the floor and trying to concentrate on anything but Link. Her mind refused to cooperate, and in the blankness of grief presented her with dark images of his death. The pounding of the rain over the shop roof conjured memories of the fall of Hyrule Castle, and brought forward the nightmares about her father.

A knock on the door caused her to jerk unsteadily to her feet. She stumbled over the bench and grabbed the doorknob, yanking it toward her. A very startled looking young woman stood in the dim daylight, blue hair soaked by the rain.

Sheik stared blankly at her.

"I..." she looked around, "May I enter?"

The pleading look in her eyes convinced Sheik, and he stepped aside, offering her a view of the counter where Link's body had been placed. The woman murmured in faint sadness as she moved past the Sheikah.

The stranger crossed the room to stand by Link's side, leaning over him.

"You poor child," she stroked his hair, "this was never meant to happen."

"Excuse me," Sheik said in an absurdly loud voice.

The woman turned, alarmed.

"Who are you."

She sighed, "A friend."

"I'm afraid that stopped being good enough when he died," Sheik answered, harsh words bitter even to his ears.

"Ah," she glanced at the floor, lovely face contorted with guilt, "Of course."

Sheik considered attacking the stranger out of pure malice, but held back.

"I cannot blame you for your distrust," the blue-haired woman pressed her hands together nervously, "I am so very sorry for your loss, Princess."

Horrified, Zelda backed up a step, flattening herself against the closed door. A knife slid from her wristguard into her palm.

"What did you say?" she muttered.

The woman's blue eyes began to glow, "You are safe with me, Princess Zelda of Hyrule."

Zelda felt her triforce mark begin to spark. Its glow brightened at a furious pace and the familiar sensation of her disguise melting away tickled her skin. The glow faded and she looked down at her female body, blue dress falling neatly around her legs.

She stared up at the newcomer, stark panic overtaking her senses.

"Who... what...?" she stammered, eyes wide.

The woman moved quickly to grasp Zelda's hand, looking into her eyes in earnest.

"You need not fear me," the stranger's voice was layered with power, "I am the one who gave you this."

Her fingers traced the triforce mark gently. The mark gleamed briefly in response.

Zelda's gaze snapped from her hand to the stranger's glowing blue eyes. The princess sank to her knees, eyes downcast.

"Goddess Nayru," she breathed, "I..."

Nayru caught her by the arms with strong hands and lifted her back up. Zelda almost expected a reprimand, or to be punished for allowing Link to be killed. Instead, the goddess wrapped her arms around Zelda's shoulders, embracing her.

"We did not mean for this," Nayru whispered sadly into Zelda's ear, "I have felt your pain, and you must know the fault lies with me, not with you."

"But..." Zelda felt tears threaten again, wondering if she had gone mad with grief, "I left him..."

"I allowed you to," Nayru said firmly, "Had you stayed, you would have both been killed, and Ganondorf would have obtained the Triforce."

Zelda pulled away sharply, "You knew he would die?"

Nayru shook her head sadly, glancing over her shoulder at the fallen Hero. She closed her eyes for a moment, then looked back at Zelda.

"I have presented myself to you only to offer my condolences. I have little time to prevent this kingdom's downfall. In the meantime, fate will be unguarded. Protect yourself, Princess. I will not be able to."

A swirling column of blue magic surrounded the goddess, and she faded away before Zelda could respond. Left alone once again, the princess leaned against the door and let herself slide to the ground. A distinct lack of pain told her her wounds had been completely healed.

"But... you left Hyrule," she said to the air, "you abandoned us..."

The dim glow of the mark on her hand suggested otherwise.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, looking back up at Link. The empty feeling in her chest returned in a burst of pain, and she suddenly felt the need to leave the shop, the village, the region.

Transforming again in a much slower display of power, Zelda built a transportation spell between her hands. As soon as her disguise was complete, she released the spell with a blaze of grey-purple magic.

The light surrounded her as her mind emptied of thought, lulled into peace by the traveling energy.

* * *

Nayru reappeared in the Kakariko Cemetery, sensing three distinct presences there. Two were poes, the third was the last Sheikah. The goddess, standing just inside the wooden gateway, watched the woman unnoticed.

Impa sat on the royal memorial marker, shoulders hunched in a rare display of weakness. Her silver hair had been let down, and she had discarded several pieces of her armor.

Nayru began to move quietly toward her, pausing when the Sheikah spoke.

"Who's there?" she asked without turning.

"A friend," Nayru answered.

A long moment passed, but Impa did not turn around. The Sheikah finally sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"So you've returned."

"You know we never truly left," Nayru said quietly.

"But you took your time to intervene," Impa responded, voice hoarse.

Nayru walked to stand beside the monument, glancing up at Impa's face. Recent tears had left thin trails of water down the woman's face, streaking over the tattoos beneath her eyes to gather under her chin.

"I am sorry, Impa. I am afraid I may have caused this."

"May?" Impa echoed, "If I had remained with the other Sages instead of returning here..."

"I may have given you ill advice, yes."

"_May_ again," Impa snorted disrespectfully, "we both know you threw off the course of fate by bringing me back here."

Nayru went silent, unable to think of anything to say. The Sheikah was right. There remained only one or two options for restoring the balance, and any choice the goddess made would be dangerous.

"So what now?" Impa asked, "The final Sage remains unawakened, and considering her current situation, it's unlikely that will ever change."

"And... the princess is aware that she is---"

"Yes."

Nayru accepted this interruption with little umbrage, though she was saddened by Impa's apparent hatred for her. She waited for the Sheikah to speak again.

"I'm sorry, my lady," came Impa's tired voice, "I... I have never felt so helpless. Please understand."

"I do."

Impa nodded.

"As for the plan," Nayru continued, "I fear I am alone in crafting it."

Impa looked down at the goddess, shocked, "Your sisters will not aid you?"

Nayru cleared her throat, an unfamiliar act which caused her to hesitate, "I... Farore refuses to release the Hero's soul. She is... dying."

Impa's mouth opened slightly.

"And Din..." Nayru glanced away at the graveyard.

"Oh, hells," Impa buried her face in her hands, seeming to realize Nayru's implication. The Sheikah ran her hands through her hair, groaning in useless frustration.

After a long moment of contemplation, Nayru looked back to her companion. Meeting her gaze, Impa leapt down from the memorial. She straightened her posture and took a deep breath.

"What can I do, Goddess?"

"You will not like this..."

"The time for personal preferences has long past."

Nayru searched Impa's eyes and found the warrior was not lying.

"I need you to pay a visit to an old friend."

The goddess watched as the Sheikah's face drained of color. Impa looked momentarily to the ground, then back into Nayru's eyes.

"You were right. I don't like this at all."

"If all goes according to plan, the result will mean a pure sacrifice with which to save Farore."

"Thus Hyrule."

Nayru nodded, "There is a trapped soul beneath the fortress. I will follow you until you have freed it."

Sighing, Impa pushed silver hair from her eyes, "Alright. I'll go."

* * *

The rain was pouring down over Hyrule Field as Zelda's transportation spell placed her beneath a tree. She glanced around at the deserted area, turning to face the enormous wooden structure behind her.

Behind their fences, the cheerily colored buildings of Lon Lon Ranch seemed bizarrely incongruous in the ruins of Hyrule. Zelda checked her soaked disguise and moved silently toward the gateway.

Though she had shadowed Link to the ranch many times, she had never met its occupants face to face. It had been years since the Hero had last set foot inside the farmstead, and it was possible he had been long forgotten. Zelda wondered fleetingly wether she had sent herself on a fool's errand.

Edging around the gate's wooden support posts, the princess held back her thoughts of Link and the past. As she willed her sadness to turn itself to resolve, she focused on the task at hand.

The green hill before her led to a cluster of buildings. Zelda ducked behind a crate as a middle-aged man with dark hair exited the stables to her right. He paused in the doorway, glancing at the rainy heavens, then jogged quickly to another closed door across the way. He rushed inside, swearing at the weather.

Zelda darted out from behind the crate and pressed into the stable door, opening it a crack. A low voice reached her ears, humming softly.

She slipped inside the warm, dry building, careful not to rustle the excess hay around her feet. As she turned to face the interior of the stable, a horse snorted at her in confusion. She leaned around a corner, searching for the source of the bittersweet song.

A young woman with orange-red hair leaned against a wood beam, humming as she brushed the horse standing in front of her. The horse grunted nervously and leaned to one side, likely aware of Zelda's presence. As the trainer moved to shush the animal, her body was visible in the newly created gap.

Zelda whipped her head back around the corner, leaning against the door in shock. Beneath the woman's white tunic had been the distinct curve of an unborn child. Her mind flying through a list of possible fathers, Zelda tried furiously to banish heart-wrenching thoughts of Link. The horse at the end of the aisle let out another snort, eye on the disguised princess.

"_What_, Renaldo?" came a silvery voice from behind Zelda. The red-haired young woman stepped into view, reaching for the horse's nose.

"You're such a ham," she muttered. The animal pulled his nose free, tossing his head in Zelda's direction. The princess stepped away from the door.

The redhead turned, then froze. For a brief moment, her blue eyes stared directly into Sheik's, defiant fear shaping her features. The patter of rain overhead broke the silence. Sheik took a step forward.

"You are Malon," the Sheikah opened his hands in a display of peace.

Her head turned slightly in distrust, "Yes. Who are you?"

"My name is Sheik. I believe... we have a mutual friend," he finished weakly.

Malon's eyes brightened somewhat, and her posture relaxed, "Oh, yes. Link told me about you. Said he owed you his life."

Sheik flinched at the words, but remained calm, "I, ah... I am here on his behalf."

"Oh," she smiled, wiping her hands on her apron, "Well, always good to hear from him. What's he up to, anyway?"

The Sheikah took a deep breath, glancing at Malon's rounded middle.

"We should find somewhere to sit down."

* * *

Nabooru sat at the end of a wooden table, fuming. She slammed her fist on the surface before her, the sound echoing through the empty mess hall. Groaning, she placed her head in her hands.

She was dangerously close to losing her opportunity for rebellion. Ganondorf had apparently taken up with some young upstart whom Nabooru had never seen before. The girl had convinced him to travel to the desert hideout, for some reason. Though the king's absence would allow Nabooru to slip unnoticed from the palace, his sudden trust in this young warrior was cause for alarm.

Nabooru toyed with a bracelet, trying to calm herself. She failed utterly and instead stood up, driven to pace the stone floor.

If the little whore could win Ganondorf's confidence, Nabooru's usefulness would quickly reach an end. Once this happened, it was only a matter of days before the king decided to have her killed.

She growled at the thought of being bested by a younger woman, especially one who flouted Gerudo custom by wearing her hair down.

A knock on the door caused her to look up. An older Gerudo stood hesitantly against the stone frame, a nervous look in her eyes.

"Yes?" Nabooru stopped pacing.

"Mistress Nabooru," the warrior bowed hastily, "the rider you sent to Kakariko..."

"Has not returned?"

"No."

"Perfect," Nabooru muttered, stalking around the table to brush past the elder woman. No doubt the villagers had successfully revolted. The Gerudo leader supposed she would be blamed for this as well.

"I _told _him," she said angrily to her subordinate as they moved through the halls, "we should have stayed there overnight. One attack wasn't enough to break them."

"Of course, my lady," the soldier agreed mindlessly.

"Gather the archers," Nabooru snapped, "we'll end this now."

"Yes, my lady," the older woman turned down an adjoining hallway.

Nabooru paused for a moment, considering her plan. As she watched her soldier walk away, a curious idea began to infect her thoughts.

"Wait," she called.

The warrior turned back, awaiting a command.

"Return to your post," Nabooru said decisively, "tell no one of this."

"My... lady?" the Gerudo's face displayed hopeless confusion.

"Trust me."

"I... alright," she scratched the nape of her neck, "I do trust you, Nabooru."

Nabooru smiled, "Good."

As the other woman retreated down the candlelit hall, Nabooru continued on her way to the stables. Her thin smile hovered on her lips. She would personally see an end to the revolt. She could only hope the Hylians would honor a white flag.


	12. Bargains

Clad in a brown traveler's cloak and disguised as a frail old woman, Impa urged her horse through the dreary pass leading to the Gerudo Valley. Nayru's magic had brought her most of the way across the fields. She prayed the rest of the goddess's precautions would remain intact as well.

The first of a series of guard checkpoints greeted her vision at the top of a hill. The heavy mist over the valley made it hard to make out faces, but Impa guessed the guards could not be of a high class, as they wore basic white.

She said a silent prayer, then half-smiled at the irony of it. No doubt the goddess herself was listening. Impa needed Nayru's help avoid the more powerful residents of the desert. Her disguise was strong, but Ganondorf and the twin sorceresses would be able to see through it.

"Halt!" shouted one of the guards as Impa drew near. The Sheikah pulled gently on the reins, bringing her impatient horse to a stop.

The guard moved forward, young face beaded with water in the rainy drizzle.

"What's your business here, grandma?" the guard asked impetuously, grasping the worn bridle of Impa's horse.

"Please..." Impa rasped, holding back a sharp retort, "I just want to see my son."

The Gerudo raised an eyebrow, "Your son?"

"Yes... you're holding him prisoner here, and I---"

"Listen," the guard leaned dramatically on the shaft of her spear, "I don't know what land you think you're in, but this is Gerudo territory. Meddling in our business will get you arrested in a hurry."

"Fine," Impa said firmly, wondering if the young girl realized her threat had been more of an invitation, "then you should arrest me."

The guard glanced back at her comrade, then up into Impa's wrinkled eyes.

"Hells, lady," she sighed, "you wouldn't last a day."

Impa reached out an aged hand, covering the Gerudo's fingers with her own, "Please. I know you're going to kill him. Just a few minutes."

The girl's eyes went soft for a moment, and Impa knew she had won. The Gerudo turned and made a hand signal to her companion, who made one back.

"Tell the woman at the next gate," said the guard as she pulled Impa's horse forward, "that Kazara gave you permission to pass."

"Thank you," Impa said, inflecting her voice with false sentiment.

The guard let go of the bridle as Impa passed through the gate, and the rock crevasse leading to the hideout stretched before her. The daylight was eclipsed for a few minutes by the tall clay edifices. She rounded a sharp corner. The bridge to the fortress appeared over the crest of another hill, the next checkpoint just beyond.

Impa breathed deeply to calm her nerves. Her heart pounded at her ribcage, but she ignored it, harnessing the fear should she need its power later. Her horse clopped lazily over the bridge, unaware of her anticipation. Far beneath, the steady waterfalls of the Zora River sent up a crushing roar.

The guard at the steel gate stood with her arms crossed, watching Impa approach with a look of amused exasperation. Impa's horse trotted up the stone steps and halted just in front of the woman.

"Well," the Gerudo glanced Impa over, "who are you?"

"Kazara gave me permission to pass," answered the Sheikah, "I'm here to see my son."

"Mm," the guard nodded, looking underwhelmed, "I assume your son is the poor bastard in the eastern cell block."

Impa paused, unsure how to respond.

"Of course he is," the Gerudo continued, running a hand over her short red hair, "he's the only man in the fortress. Shame what Lord Ganon did to him, he's pretty handsome."

"Euh..." Impa made a choked noise, both concerned and disgusted.

"Oh, sorry," the guard said unconvincingly, "Right."

She turned and waved at the peak of a mountain crag, where a glint of metal shone back at her. The gate began to creak slowly open. The guard stepped aside.

"Nice day," she said as Impa's horse moved obediently ahead.

Out of the guard's earshot, the Sheikah swore and closed her eyes for a moment. A final checkpoint stood between she and her goal.

_You're close,_ whispered a voice in her ear. Her eyes snapped open. A blue sparkle at the corner of her vision told her Nayru was with her. Impa noticed the low-hanging mist beginning to dissipate as she approached the fortress.

"I swore I'd never return to this place," she breathed.

_You also swore an oath to protect Hyrule,_ came Nayru's placid reply, _That is your duty._

Impa nodded. She had given up the right to her own future the day she had agreed to protect Princess Zelda. The time had come to make good on her oath, regardless of the cost.

* * *

The upstairs bedroom of the Lon Lon homestead was quiet and cozy. The downstairs den was filled with cuccos, brought in for the rain, and sported a sizeable leak in its roof. Thus, Malon had decided the shared bedroom was the best place to bring the newcomer.

Easing herself into a chair, she watched Sheik stand awkwardly against the wall. Though handsome, he looked somewhat out of place in his dark, battle-ready clothing. He clashed absurdly with the bedroom's pink lace decor. His visible red eye swept the walls uneasily.

"Please," Malon said to him, "Won't you sit down?"

He seemed startled by the request, "I... thank you, I won't stay long."

His tone made her immediately suspicious, a reaction she hid by sliding her chair sideways. Working around her swollen belly, she pushed the chair against the center table, resting her elbow on the pink tablecloth. She placed her chin in her hand.

"So..." she watched him intently, "You're here for Link."

He seemed to be staring at her hand, "Yes."

She glanced at her hand, where her simple wedding band glinted at her, then back at the Sheikah, "Is something wrong?"

"No," he said too quickly. He looked away as a thin blush spread across his face.

She stared at him, unnerved and confused.

"I'm sorry," his voice grew soft, "Link never mentioned you were..."

Malon leaned back, "Oh. Well, he wouldn't have."

"... What?"

"He doesn't know," she sighed, rubbing her temple, "Hasn't been by in years, since I was about sixteen. And I'm sure you know what it's like trying to get in touch with him. Wish he'd visit, I miss the crazy boy."

"Oh," Sheik answered lamely, sounding both understanding and pained. Malon caught the darkness in his voice and watched him sharply, concern building in her mind.

"Sheik."

He met her gaze evenly.

"What's going on?"

The Sheikah moved closer, pulling out a chair and sitting down in front of her. He rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward, and brushed his gold hair aside. As his face drew close to hers, Malon was shocked by the intense pain in his eyes.

"No," she heard herself whisper, "Please don't tell me..."

"I'm sorry," his voice wavered, "Link is... he's dead."

Malon's hand flew to her mouth. She closed her eyes tightly against sudden, burning tears. She turned her face away from Sheik, chest heaving as she tried to control herself.

"He..." Sheik continued, sounding far away, "was the bearer of the triforce of courage. The Hero of Time. He died... trying to save Kakariko Village from a Gerudo attack."

Malon let out a low wail, cradling her head in her hands as she leaned into the table. Tears pattered down onto the wood beneath.

"Who...?" she managed.

Sheik hesitated a moment before saying, "Ganondorf."

Malon pushed herself up in furious grief, shaking her head against the truth. Sheik followed her, standing quickly and reaching out for her. She stumbled away and landed heavily on the edge of her bed, arms wrapped protectively around her body. A weak sound escaped her lips as Sheik sat gingerly beside her.

"Why?" she asked the opposite wall, vision blurred, "Why does everyone..."

Sheik's hand touched her shoulder tentatively.

"Everyone?" he echoed with tangible concern.

The agony of the last week and a half finally broke free, and Malon found herself clinging to Sheik and crying into his chest. His arms moved slowly across her back, hands warm. The feeling of comfort made her sob harder.

"_Avin_," she moaned, clutching at Sheik's clothing, "They've killed him, I know they killed him..."

"Avin?" came Sheik's incredulous voice from above her ear, "the potion maker?"

She nodded weakly, burying her face against the Sheikah's body.

"Oh, goddesses," he breathed, pulling her closer.

He stroked her hair gently as she forced herself to stop crying. They sat motionless for a while, as Malon reflected on the ruin of her life. Had she been inclined to pray, she would have thanked the goddesses for Sheik's kindness. But she didn't believe in them anymore.

The rush of tears finally slowed, and Malon set aside the despair once again. She had her father to look after, and would soon have a child to raise. She didn't have time for sadness.

"Thank you," she whispered as she pulled back, "for telling me."

Sheik grasped her shoulders tenderly, mismatched eyes searching her face.

"I'm alright," Malon assured him, sounding more confident than she felt, "Thank you."

She began to wipe her face dry with the back of her hand. Sheik released her shoulders but lingered a moment longer, as if to make sure she was telling the truth. He finally stood, expression stony.

"Go on," Malon tried her best to look strong, "You have a war to fight."

He looked to the floor, "I'm afraid Hyrule is lost."

"It can't be," she heard her voice growing fainter, "Ganondorf is just one man."

Sheik sighed heavily, glancing away, "I know you and your family have worked hard to maintain this place, but... I would recommend leaving the kingdom."

"No," Malon said flatly.

The Sheikah watched her a moment, then nodded.

"I could stay longer, if you would like." his eyes sought out hers.

She shook her head, "Go. I'll be safe here. Ganondorf won't come after us until he runs out of horses."

"That isn't what I meant."

"I know."

He nodded again and turned away, heading for the door. Malon watched him go. When he'd finally closed the door and left her alone, she allowed herself the liberty of silent tears.

* * *

Din's magic carried them into the heart of the fortress. The fiery red sparks of energy stung at Ganondorf's skin, and the king found himself grinning like a child at the raw power licking his body. The glow dispersed and he was standing in the soft sand before the fortress, Din by his side. All around, Gerudos had frozen in their patrols to stare at the king and the goddess.

"You are convinced now," Din chuckled.

"Yes," was the only thing Ganondorf could think of. He stared at her, entranced by the energy she radiated. How had he not seen it before? She laughed at him, a sharp, carnal sound.

"Now," she turned her back on him, looking over the valley and wastelands, "you want to know why I brought you here."

"Indeed," he muttered, watching the sunlight on her bare shoulders.

"My naive sister," she faced him again, "is attempting to sacrifice your prisoner to save Farore."

"The Hylian?" the Gerudo king was sincerely surprised, "He hardly seems worth it."

"I share your opinion. Still, he is one of Farore's pure souls, however pathetic, and Nayru plans to take him."

"And?" Ganondorf nearly smirked, "I thought you wanted a sacrifice."

"A sacrifice, yes, but _this?_ No... I want what Nayru has."

He moved closer to her, taking some joy in her powerful aura, "What is that?"

Din smiled up at him, eyes blazing, "Take a look. She will climb the steps in just a few moments."

"She?" he asked. As he glanced at the stone stairway behind his goddess, he saw. He felt his face turn slack.

Deep beneath a strong glamour, Impa of the Sheikah walked her white horse up the last few steps. She looked nervously about, and her eyes widened as they settled on Ganondorf and Din.

In a whirl of motion, the Sheikah leapt into the saddle and pulled her horse about, causing it to rear back in panic. The excited animal bolted down the stairway toward the wastelands. An explosion of blue magic blew apart the wooden portcullis blocking the desert entrance. The Sheikah rode into the swirling winds, vanishing into the sandstorm. Several Gerudos ran in her wake, stopping short before the wasteland border.

Ganondorf took a few moments to form a complete thought.

"You... want Impa," he said.

"Of course!" Din laughed viciously, "_She_ is a proper sacrifice."

"She..." Ganondorf repeated, mind far elsewhere. His eyes gazed futilely out over the shifting desert sands.

His attention was won as Din draped her arms over his breastplate, gazing up at him with glowing eyes. She tilted her head to one side, red hair cascading over her arm.

"Now all we must do is capture her," she purred.

Ganondorf stood in place, gazing at her down the length of his nose. He took several deep breaths of the dry air as she inched closer. Her strong, tan hand grasped the side of his face.

"You will catch her for me, little chosen one," she demanded in a low voice.

Pride warred with desire in his head, and Ganondorf swallowed to avoid showing his unease. Din's lip curled slightly.

"Of course, my goddess," he said.

"Good," she released him and stepped back, "I will accompany you and deal with my sister."

"An honor," he inclined his head toward her.

She lifted her hands in the air, conjuring an orb of power which glowed brightly even against the sun. Its center darkened and it opened, becoming a portal. Ganondorf recognized the spell. He'd used it to travel Hyrule in the past.

As Din busied herself transporting Ganondorf's phantom horse, the king thought over his near future. The Goddess of Power appeared ready to hand him Hyrule as long as she could save her sister. Without Farore, the triforce would crumble, and everything including Ganondorf's empire would be destroyed. However, a complete triforce meant the coming of a new Hero. The Gerudo king disliked his odds against yet another fated warrior, but there was no other way. He would have to agree to start over.

In the interim, he hated the idea of killing Impa right away. He had hoped to save the Sage's death for much later, until after he'd given her the chance to see Zelda die. He sighed quietly and walked toward Din, who had brought forth his horse and was running her hand up and down its neck.

"Come," she looked to him, voice edged with danger, "Let us hunt."

* * *

Nabooru rode slowly through the pass into Kakariko Village. The white flag she held waved in the breeze, hampered slightly by the dying afternoon rain. As she reached the town, Hylians began to surround her. They hung back in unease, muttering to each other as they stared at the white cloth.

The Gerudo pulled her horse to a stop. She held up her hands in a display of peace, one fist curled tightly around the flagpole.

"I have not come to fight," she told them, "I have come to negotiate the return of Gerudo dead."

The Hylians seemed to accept this, albeit warily. A hulking, hairy man stepped forward to stand just in front of Nabooru's horse.

"Stay where y'are," he said with authority, "An' give us one reason to help yeh."

Nabooru's pulse quickened. She thrust her chin a little higher in the air, hiding her nervousness.

"I was told," she glanced over the crowd, "that Hylians were honorable warriors. Surely honor requires proper burials for the dead."

"We ain't warriors," the man's cold eyes appraised her, "You forced us to fight."

He gestured with both arms at the surrounding town. Nabooru looked from ruin to ruin, noticing several piles of rubble collected around the well. Charred wood and stone stood on scorched earth, patches of green grass all that remained alive. The devastation seemed more severe in the light of day.

She took a moment to choose her words, "I... have no control over my orders."

"Yeh could refuse them," the vocal man took an aggressive step forward, empowered by several calls of agreement from the crowd, "Yeh could fight with honor yerself!"

Nabooru was momentarily frightened that the villagers would attack her where she stood, despite the white flag.

"Domel," called a strong voice.

Attention turned to a flight of stone stairs to Nabooru's left, upon which a figure in blue stood. Nabooru drew a terse breath between clenched teeth.

Sheik leapt down from the stairway and walked into the crowd, which parted to allow him through. The villagers made various gestures of reverence as he passed. He stopped beside the burly speaker, crossing his arms. Nabooru watched him warily in the silence.

The Sheikah sighed as he looked at her, "She carries the flag of peace, and she came here alone. I believe her intentions are pure, for once."

Nabooru stiffened slightly at the insult, but said nothing. Sheik stared at her, apparently deciding what to do.

"I will discuss the arrangements with you," he made a motion indicating she should dismount, "in private."

She nodded and gripped her saddle, swinging herself swiftly over to jump down. She held tightly to her white flag as the man called Domel took her horse by the reins.

Sheik waited for the animal to be lead away, then moved closer to Nabooru. His red eye searched her face, his expression unreadable behind the folds of a white cowl.

"This way," he turned and began walking toward a large brick building, one of few left standing. Nabooru followed, nervous.

She swallowed, staring at Sheik's back as he moved. She had hoped to deal with Impa, but the younger Sheikah seemed to be in control of the town for the moment. In order for her plan to work, she would need to convince him she was his ally. At the moment, this achievement seemed nearly impossible.

They walked up a short stairway, and Nabooru felt a sinking feeling as she trod over the spot where the Hero had been killed. No doubt the Sheikah would not forgive her for his friend's death.

Sheik stepped through the empty brick doorframe into a gutted room. The smell of burnt paint hung heavy in the air, and Nabooru caught herself just before covering her mouth. She could not afford displays of weakness, however vague.

"So," Sheik turned to face her, his voice laden with venom, "Why are you here?"

Nabooru froze, "To... negotiate the return of the fallen Ger---"

"You're a terrible liar, Nabooru. Restrict yourself to your talents and tell me the truth."

She worked her jaw, "I've come with a proposal."

He stared at her a moment, then moved purposefully forward. Nabooru thought fleetingly of a knife tucked beneath belt. She knew she would never reach it in time.

Sheik's strong hands grasped her by the shoulders and flung her across the room. She crashed through a scorched desk into a brick wall, falling to the floor with a groan. The splintered floorboards cut stinging scratches into her bare midriff. She reached a shaky hand back for her knife, but a blade at her throat paused her motion.

"If you want to make a proposal," Sheik's voice was quiet, but rang of fury, "you will make it like this."

The Gerudo placed her hands flat on the ground, looking at the Sheikah up the length of a short sword. As the shock of the attack wore off, pain and anger set in, and Nabooru took a long moment to control herself before finally speaking.

"You and I," she licked her lips, "are not so different."

"Easily said."

"More easily proved," Nabooru watched his red eye, trying to discern his reaction, "You and I both want Lord Ganon dead. I can give you the opportunity to kill him."

Sheik snorted humorlessly, "A traitor to all but yourself."

"I do what is best for my people," the Gerudo snapped, catching herself on the edge of a growl, "nothing more or less."

The Sheikah had no reply to this. He stood over her a moment more, blonde head tilted slightly. Then he removed his sword from its resting place on her neck.

"Tell me," he said darkly, "about this proposal."


	13. A Good Deed

Impa's horse careened through the sand, stumbling to a stop outside an abandoned outpost. The animal wheezed with exertion, stamping a hoof into the soft sand. Its rider, winded, was attempting to yell over the whistling breeze.

"--- trapped out here!" she gasped, dismounting.

Beneath the desert sun, a slight blue mist floated to and fro.

_There is a way to distract them,_ Nayru's voice rang of fear, _But we must hurry._

"Alright," Impa said miserably, running her hand up and down her horse's neck.

_First, you must promise me that you will gather this soul. No matter what your opinion of my choice, collect the sacrifice._

The goddess sounded panicked enough to raise Impa's suspicions. The Sheikah leaned against her steed's shoulder, wiping sweat from her forehead.

"What is your plan?"

_There is no time, Impa!_

The Sheikah glanced into the desert, "I will not question you. Tell me what you need."

The blue cloud lowered to Impa's eye level, then slowly shifted itself into a woman's shape. Its glow intensified, and with a dulled flash Nayru appeared in her Hylian form. Her face was grave.

"You must promise," the goddess repeated.

Impa hesitated, regarding Nayru as if for the first time.

Nayru's expression became desperate, "_Please_, promise me. My sister and her host are almost here."

"I promise."

Impa found herself in a quick embrace, and was unsure if she should feel honored or concerned. A mingling of both sent her mind spinning.

"I will appear to them as you, but the illusion will only last so long," Nayru pulled back, "You will have only a few minutes once I transport you to the fortress."

"Inside," Impa nodded, "The cells?"

"Yes," Nayru glanced at the horizon, "and... there is another thing."

The Sheikah waited, becoming distantly aware that Nayru's mannerisms were less and less celestial.

"I... will need your horse."

Impa's heart clenched, but she simply nodded, "Take him."

Nayru waved a hand, and Impa was suddenly looking upon herself. She took a step back in reflexive shock, and a line of blue magic drew its way across her vision.

"Be careful," Nayru warned as Impa was absorbed by the spell, "I will not be able to guard you!"

"I will," the Sheikah murmured as the image of the goddess and her horse faded into a light blue haze.

* * *

"Why would he go there?"

"Damned if I know," Nabooru said truthfully, rubbing her arm where Sheik's grip had bruised it.

They sat across from each other at a table in the empty potion shop. The weak sunlight barely penetrated the dirty windows, and Sheik had been forced to light several candles. He leaned on his elbows, red eye watching Nabooru intently.

"There must be something of value," Sheik urged.

"Several things," Nabooru flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and leaned back in her chair, "But none that would help him now."

"What things."

The Gerudo glanced at the ceiling, "A few unique weapons, a large store of potions and some newly acquired trinkets."

"Trinkets?"

"Spoils of war, I suppose."

Sheik gave her a long, level glare. She shrank back slightly, adjusting a gold bracelet.

"Make no mistake," the Sheikah pressed his wrapped fingertips together, "this is an alliance, not a casual friendship. If I decide I no longer agree to our terms, I _will_ kill you, and it _will_ be painful."

Nabooru stared, affronted, for a short moment. Then she smiled and chuckled at the young man. She was not so easily fooled by talk such as this.

"I don't think you'll kill me," she said in a low voice, "you still need my help."

"Hardly."

"Ah," she pretended to be struck by a thought, "though I seem to have remembered something."

Sheik drew a terse breath, "Pertaining to Ganondorf?"

"Yes. I mentioned trinkets?"

He simply waited.

"Well," she was glancing at his muscled shoulders, "one of them was an ocarina. Laced with magic."

Sheik looked as if he'd been stabbed.

Confused, Nabooru continued, "It looked like foreign craftsmanship, but Lord Ganon insisted it belonged to a Kokiri girl... Saula, Seera---"

"Saria."

She nodded, wondering how he'd known the name, "He seemed to think it was somehow connected to the Hero."

A swift silence descended in the wake of her words, and Nabooru shifted uneasily as an expression of utter hatred flashed through Sheik's eye. He folded his hands and looked away for a moment. Nabooru could have sworn he was shaking.

"I'm sorry," she muttered despite herself.

There was a rush of movement and a flash of blue, and Nabooru was not entirely shocked to discover a knife point hovering just before her eye. Sheik, perched on the table and quaking with anger, was watching her murderously.

"I told you to stop lying," he hissed, "If you ever dare to breathe another word of him, you will cease breathing in that moment."

The Gerudo nodded slowly, eyeing the knife. This was twice in an hour she had failed to guard against him. She considered the idea that she was out of form. At this rate, she wouldn't have very long to practice.

Sheik lowered the knife and backed across the table, settling himself into his chair. The blade disappeared beneath a wristguard and he leaned back.

"Now," he said, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, "I don't believe anyone but the Kokiri would have had one of Saria's possessions. Murdering Kokiri sounds despicable, even for the Gerudo."

Nabooru attempted to answer civilly, "A Hylian was carrying it. If there was any murder, it was on his part."

The Sheikah's attention was piqued, "A Hylian?"

"One of yours, from Kakariko," Nabooru fought to keep the smugness from her face, "We caught him trying to sneak into our hideout."

Sheik had no answer, but stared hard at the wooden table. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

"I suppose he's dead, then."

"No. I left him alive, and word has it Lord Ganon never finished his interrogation."

Sheik's voice was hopeful, "Could he be their concern?"

"Perhaps," Nabooru admitted.

"How long does he have?"

"Not long. They must be there already."

Sheik stood quickly and moved to the door.

"Wait," Nabooru called. The Sheikah paused, watching her impatiently.

The Gerudo rose slowly, gliding around the table to stand near the young man. She leaned slightly forward.

"This little upstart, whoever she is, is powerful," Nabooru shook her head, "We will need to be unnoticed."

"We?"

Raising an eyebrow, the Gerudo let out a short, metallic laugh, "You think I'd let you go alone?"

* * *

As Ganondorf charged across the sands, he was more starkly aware than he had been in years. The yellow dunes seemed alive, and the brightness of the blue sky was enough to cause his eyes to water. The power pulsing through his veins was nearly burning him.

Din flew beside him as a red mist, barely visible even to Ganondorf. Her voice would occasionally pierce his thoughts, a thrilling and terrifying sensation.

_We are close! _she said triumphantly, _Soon, we will have our sacrifice!_

Ganondorf's gut churned, but he clenched his jaw. He could not be sure how much of his mind was open to the goddess' perusal. He did not relish the idea of finding out.

Moments later, they crested a large sand dune and faced the empty outpost halfway to the desert temple. Atop his shadow steed, the Gerudo King looked down at his constant enemy.

_So foolish, little sister!_ Din was cackling from above.

Past the sandy gales, Impa was squinting up at them, her frame crestfallen in front of her white horse. The animal stomped its hoof nervously.

Ganondorf's heightened senses caught the irregularity of the Sheikah's stance.

"Wait," he muttered to Din, "Something is different."

_She knows defeat! I can smell her fear from here._

The Gerudo rubbed his chin a moment, watching Impa's still form. He had never known her to expose fear to an adversary, and had certainly never seen it in the face of his own attacks. Even when he'd taken Hyrule, she had been silent and stony.

He was lost in a memory of the rainy night when Din finally shouted, _What are you waiting for?!_

He urged his horse forward and the spirit beast darted into motion, winding its way down the shifting slope. Ganondorf's eyes never left Impa's face. She did not move.

The land leveled off and the shadow mount broke into a canter, rushing toward the stone building. Impa made a feeble attempt to move away, but Ganondorf lowered his sword to her neck as his horse slid to a stop. She froze in place.

"After all this time," he said quietly, looking down his nose at her, "you choose to end it like this?"

She said nothing, but an expression of pride tugged the side of her mouth.

Din floated past Ganondorf, stealing Impa's attention. The red cloud lowered and flashed, and Din's Gerudo form stood before the Sheikah woman.

"I used to think you were unstoppable, little Sheikah," Din seized Impa's face by the chin, "You were so promising."

Impa smiled then.

"Do you know what I intend for you?" the goddess' red eyes glowed, "Such glory."

Ganondorf, meanwhile, was attempting to identify the exact feeling of dread pulling through his stomach. Impa never smiled. Never at him.

"Speak," Din ordered the woman. Impa blinked slowly at her.

"I said _speak_," the goddess dug her sharp fingernails into the skin of Impa's face. The Sheikah did not react, and instead of blood, blue light shone from the tiny holes.

Din drew back as if attacked, "_Nayru!_"

Ganondorf's horse stepped back in slight panic as Impa's skin melted away, revealing a younger, blue-haired woman with glowing eyes. The Gerudo king felt a further tightening of his stomach muscles.

"Sister," the goddess of wisdom was smiling serenely, "you are too proud."

Din let out an animal growl of fury, causing Ganondorf's steed to prance sideways in definite fear. Impa's white horse, behind Nayru, whinnied and retreated a few paces.

The power in the air was nearly visible, and Ganondorf's senses were illuminated by sparks of red and blue magic. He was vaguely aware that the blue sparks stung fiercely at his skin, and that the two goddesses were exchanging words. He was more concerned, however, about the real Impa's location. If she was not in the wastelands...

He began to build a spell in his left hand, hiding it behind his leg.

"You will destroy us!" Din was screaming in a horrible voice, "You ignorant little child!"

"Ignorant," Nayru scoffed, blue aura flashing visibly in anger, "Not so naive as you think me, sister!"

With a howl of rage, Din flung open her arms, sending a crimson spell burning past her sister. The red beam flew at Impa's horse, who could not move quickly enough. The raw power sliced into the animal's shoulder and burst through the opposite flank in an explosion of blood. The beast keeled with a screech, twitching as its life drained away. Nayru let out a cry of anguish.

Ganondorf urged his transportation spell to build faster, before he found himself trapped between the two goddesses. The dark power in his hand solidified after a moment, then surrounded him.

Din turned, noticed the spell, then grinned wildly. Her frenzied face was the last thing Ganondorf saw. His augmented power carried him quickly across the wastelands toward the fortress. He would leave the goddesses to their own feud.

* * *

Impa surfaced from Nayru's spell in the lowest cell wing. She moved silently into a corner, seeing a Gerudo guard in the doorway. The guard's back was turned to Impa, and the Sheikah's eyes adjusted to the dark room.

To her left, there were two cells. One contained a skeleton, the other a recently dead man. Behind her was a steep incline leading to another room, and before her there was only one guard, then the sunlit day.

Impa checked her breath, careful not to make a sound as she moved forward. Her eyes roved the ceiling, seeking out any trace of a hidden guard. She knew all of their tricks and tactics. Her soft boots made no sound on the stone floor.

The Gerudo guard, a young woman with short hair, stood haphazardly against the doorframe, far inside the room. Too far to be seen by the women outside. Impa edged along the wall to her right.

Just behind the guard, the Sheikah grasped a tiny pebble from between her feet and readied her knife in the opposite hand. With barely a movement, she sent the pebble flying toward the cells. It bounced almost silently off an iron bar.

As expected, the guard turned, and Impa's knife shot upward into the Gerudo's exposed neck. The young woman fell silently, blood spouting from the wound.

Impa edged around the dying guard and pulled a ring of keys from the wall. The first key she tried clicked into the lock, and the cell door creaked open. The Sheikah moved toward the dead man, attempting to locate his trapped soul.

As she knelt beside the body, a curious sensation greeted her. She could feel no spirit around her, crying out for help. She glanced around, suppressing a frightening thought that some Gerudo shaman might have sent the soul along already. But this was impossible: Nayru could not be wrong.

Impa took a moment to study the body before her. The man's eyes were both closed, ringed in black bruises and swollen. His shoulder sported a hideous burn, and his hands were mangled. This skin of his bare chest was almost entirely covered in red-purple bruises and gouges. Impa looked again to his face and recognized him with a remote pang. This was the missing potion-maker, whom Impa had known since his childhood. A dim memory of Castletown and his young face arose in her mind. He had been barely older than Zelda when he first took over the shop years ago.

Something brushed her leg, and Impa leapt back. Her eyes roved the dead body as she looked for a mouse or even a spell. To her shock, the man's finger twitched.

She rushed back to him as he stirred and opened his eyes. The narrow slits revealed bloodshot blue orbs, which stared hazily upward.

"...Impa?" he breathed weakly.

The Sheikah nodded, holding a finger to her lips. He continued to groan, trying to form words.

"Hush," she leaned close to his ear, barely making a sound, "You must be quiet, Avin."

Her thoughts spun rapidly. So this was what Nayru had meant. Impa had not been sent to harvest a soul, but to steal one. She felt her heart twisting; she had dared to think she might be more than another of the goddesses' pawns. Her knives were suddenly heavy against her wrists.

"Can you move?" she murmured to Avin.

He wheezed, a sound which somewhat resembled "Yes."

Impa reflected on the bluff with some concern. It appeared several of his ribs were broken, and his shoulder was shattered. Not to mention the dubious red stain on his lower left pant leg.

And Nayru had ordered her not to hesitate. Then again, this was Avin, a boy she'd known all his life...

"Come," Impa closed gentle fingers around his arm. He hissed in pain, but began to push himself up. Impa caught him halfway and lifted him as she stood. From the corner of her eye, she saw him biting violently into his lip.

Once they were upright, she allowed him to lean heavily on her. She strung his useable arm around her shoulders, bending low and gingerly grasping his waist. He sucked in air through his teeth as her hand raked an open cut.

She pulled him forward, and they stumbled a few paces out of the cell. Avin released a quiet groan of pain.

Impa looked at his face and saw that he wouldn't make it two paces from the fortress, let alone to the fields. She directed him toward a crate and sat him down on it.

"Here," she dug through a small pocket on the side of her belt, "Take this."

She handed him a tiny vial of purple potion. He half-smiled.

"Not... mine," his teeth were bloody.

Impa attempted a soothing smile, "No, but it will have to do."

He took the bottle and lifted it to his lips, swallowing the liquid with some effort. Impa wondered fleetingly when the guard would change. If they remained where they were, they'd be found.

"Strong..." he shuddered.

"It will heal you enough to move, and then you must do exactly as I say, when I say. Do you understand this?"

"Yes," he handed her the empty vial and positioned his arm across his bare chest. His eyes searched Impa's hopelessly.

"You will survive this," Impa told him softly, "I promise you."


	14. The Sacrifice

Sheik's magic placed them on the side of a dusty mountain. Beneath them, the Gerudo hideout hummed with its quiet evening activity.

"Where is he?" Sheik demanded, hand pressed to the heated sand.

Nabooru had the audacity to glance sideways at him, "I hope you have a plan. You can't walk in there looking like that."

"_Where._"

Nabooru pointed to the doorway, "Eastern cells. You'll have to carry him, or heal him, because he won't be able to walk."

"Do you see Ganondorf anywhere?"

With typical timing, the Gerudo King appeared in a thunderous blast of energy, outline dark in front of the wasteland gate. He let out a wordless bellow of fury and dismounted his horse, drawing his sword and charging up the sand slope toward the fortress.

"No," Nabooru said crisply, "I don't see him at all."

Sheik's visible eye was roving back and forth with furious speed, "He's headed for Avin."

The Sheikah pushed off and leapt athletically to a ledge far below. Nabooru followed, landing gracefully beside him and grasping his arm.

"You can't just---"

"Distract him," Sheik ordered her.

"But---"

A hushed crack and a blinding light diverted Nabooru's attention. She blinked a few times. Sheik had vanished from sight.

"Great," she muttered, sliding down the ledge to a lower precipice. As the mountain sloped off, she broke into a run, and rushed through the ranks of Gerudos toward the eastern cells. She formulated the worst plan she had ever thought of and prayed it would work.

"Jekrine!" she shouted to one of her comrades, "The western block!"

The woman abandoned her post and ran for Nabooru, "What?!"

"They're escaping!" Nabooru stopped breathlessly in front of the younger woman, "cut off their exit!"

"Who-- But Lord Gano---"

"I will warn him! Take your guards and go!"

"Yes, my lady!"

Nabooru began running again and sincerely hoped the Sheikah was not stupid enough to attempt escape via the obvious route. She charged toward the eastern cells, drawing a folding knife from her belt and flicking it open. As she reached the doorway, she glanced behind her to make sure the guards had gone inside. They had.

"My Lord Ganon!" she screamed as loudly as she could, bursting into the room.

Her attempt at distraction echoed vainly. The room was empty, its Gerudo guard dead on the floor, and no sign of the Sheikah or his missing Hylian. Nabooru stared into the blank eyes of her dead comrade and felt an upwelling of hatred. No doubt this was the Sheikah's doing.

"Damn you," she muttered, beginning to move toward the opposite doorway. The wall beside the opening was smeared with blood.

Nabooru was only a few steps away from the corner when a rush of energy flowed through her like a freezing wind. She stopped in place, and was aware only of a blue frost on the edge of her vision before she was overcome with the desire to sleep.

"W... wait..." she told herself, falling to the floor. She slid sideways as exhaustion cramped her mind.

_Sleep now,_ commanded a soft voice.

The Gerudo's eyes fluttered shut as her head rested gently against the sandy stone.

* * *

Impa could hear the trudging footsteps following behind her, but her grip on Avin's weak body and her beating heart encouraged her to move faster. She rounded another corner. Shadows danced across the opposite wall.

"Avin," she held him at arm's length, "Are you prepared to move?"

"Yes," he managed, clearly steeling himself against his pain. He could stand on his own now, albeit unsteadily. The potion had done its work well.

"I will send you into hiding with a spell. The Gerudo won't see you. When they've all rushed past, head toward the back of the fortress and climb to the roof."

He looked terrified, but nodded, "And what then---?"

"No time," Impa became suddenly aware of the footsteps growing louder, and could hear a panting voice, "You'll go now. Tell him I sent you."

She grasped his blood-stained face in her hands and closed her eyes, sending him into a deep recess of the hideout where only a few guards would be. He was gone with a small flash. As her hands fell, she resolved to give them reason enough to leave their posts.

She built her magic and summoned two short swords, glowing blades laced with the ancient power of the Sheikah.

The footfalls were just behind her now, furious voice ringing out like a rockslide.

"_Impa!"_ it called to her, "_Where are you?!_"

She smiled a little. He was angry.

The footsteps were suddenly deafening, then stopped in stark silence. With her back to him, Impa could feel the leaking darkness of Ganondorf's presence. She shifted a sword in her palm.

"Where is he," the Thief King demanded.

Impa made no answer.

"No matter," Ganondorf continued, "I have a greater prize."

This surprised the Sheikah, and her head twitched slightly before she could stop it.

Ganondorf laughed at her, "You can't think he's worth more to me than you."

The recognition of her place in the world washed over Impa. Her body went slack as a feeling of great calm took over her senses. Of course she was worth more. She was a Sage, an unbreakable soul.

"A suitable sacrifice," she whispered to herself.

A heavy chuckle from behind her was accompanied by the sound of a sword being unsheathed, "Poor thing. You're so predictable."

She closed her eyes and took a breath.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Ganondorf took a fast step forward, and Impa ducked low in a whirl, swords flashing. He charged at her, and she leapt back. He paused, watching her intently.

"If you care," his voice was coated with bitterness, "I would have preferred to kill you last."

Impa twirled a sword, "We are both slaves of fate, then."

His eyes seemed on the verge of softening, but he shook his head and growled, "I am slave to none."

"How quaint."

"And when I'm finished with you," his grin was familiar and dangerous, "I will be master of fate."

Impa flexed her fingers, sending deep blue magic sparkling up her arms.

Ganondorf ran at her again and the clang of swords echoed through the fortress.

* * *

Zelda appeared in a nearly deserted room and instantly dispatched the two Gerudo guards. They fell as one on opposite sides of the chamber, grasping at knives in their hearts. One of them hit a table with a cracking noise. Far down another hall, the princess could hear the sounds of a fight.

A spark of magic caught her eye and she turned in time to see an invisibility spell wearing off. Beneath the tendrils of energy sat Avin, battered but clearly alive.

"Avin," Sheik whispered, "are you alright?"

"Yes..." the man shuffled slowly out from under a small alcove, "Barely."

Sheik moved to support the potion maker, glancing him over and seeing at least four wounds in need of immediate attention.

"How did you get out?" Sheik asked, partially to hide his concern.

"Impa was---"

"_Impa?!" _ Sheik's whisper threatened to become a shout, "She's here?!"

Avin made a vague gesture toward the sounds of sword-fighting.

"Goddesses," the Sheikah grasped Avin tighter, sensing the man was about to fall, "I have to help her. Hide here and---"

"She told me to go to the roof. I thought I was meeting you."

"No, I had no idea that..." Sheik's mind turned rapid circles, "Go to the roof now. She wouldn't come here without a plan."

Avin's blue eyes clouded with uncertainty, but he nodded weakly, "I trust you."

"Then go. That way. I've taken care of the guards."

The Hylian grasped Sheik's arm as tightly as he could for a brief moment, then departed, hobbling up a steep stone incline. Sheik watched until the wounded man was out of sight.

"Nayru help him," prayed Zelda, rushing toward the ringing of metal.

Her senses and magic guided her toward the battle, and she turned the last corner to see Ganondorf poised above a fallen Impa, sword raised to strike her across the throat.

Sheik made a furious dive between the two, sending at Ganondorf the most powerful burst of magic he could manage. The energy hurtled at the evil king, a wall of violet fire, and the man was thrown backwards across the hall by it. He crashed into the far wall with much clanking of armor.

Sheik knelt beside Impa, helping her up. Impa, however, grabbed the young man violently by the shoulders and shoved him aside.

"Get out of here!" Impa yelled, clearly terrified, "You can't be he---"

She was interrupted by loud, deep laughter from Ganondorf.

"This is beautiful," he stood, brushing dust from his cracked armor, "I get two Sheikah when I ask for only one."

Impa's swords flew back into her hands as she summoned them. She moved in front of Sheik, power fluttering in bright movements around her fingers.

"It seems," Ganondorf continued, "you can't do anything without dragging your pathetic bastard into the fray."

"He is not a part of this."

"Of course not," Ganondorf's hand made a casual flicking movement, and Sheik was flung headfirst past Impa and into the next wall. The impact was a flash of white and a crushing pain. Bricks fell around him as he slumped to the ground, moaning. Feeling as if he'd been run through with a lance, he reached a shaking hand to his forehead. A wet, warm sensation greeted this action.

"Who was it, Impa?" Ganondorf's voice shot through Sheik's ears like a knife, but then sounded distorted as if through glass. The Gerudo said something else that Sheik couldn't understand. He looked with some effort toward Impa, who was readying herself against an attack.

His vision left him then, and he felt his eyes moving wildly to try and regain sight of the battle. More clanging metal... Ganondorf speaking again... unconsciousness threatening... Sheik fought it back.

Two loud peals of falling swords twinged in his head but reawakened his eyes, and a blurry image appeared before him. Ganondorf held Impa by the neck, but not above the ground. Her hands were empty.

"...nnnh..." Sheik tried moving forward, but there was a sudden exhaustion in his bones and the circle of his vision grew slightly smaller, infringed upon by a pulsing blue light.

"... could have been," Ganondorf was saying in a distant voice.

"No," Impa murmured back, "never that."

Ganondorf let out a small laugh that was almost sad, "I suppose I always knew."

Sheik looked wearily for Impa's swords, but they were nowhere on the floor of the small hallway. He wondered why she did not summon them again.

_Sleep,_ ordered a slightly panicked voice in his head. It sounded familiar.

But he could not sleep, he had to stay awake. He had to help Impa. He made another vain attempt at crawling forward. He could not move.

_Sleep, you are tired, _coaxed the voice, _Sleep._

"No..." he breathed at it.

He was looking up at Impa in desperation when she opened her mouth. The most mournful sigh he had ever heard escaped, and Sheik thought he saw her shaking, but could not be sure of his sight.

"Why do you not fight me?" Ganondorf whispered to the Sheikah woman.

She did not respond.

"Is it true," he continued, "you loved me once?"

A pause.

Impa returned in a weak voice, "I loved a man by your name once. He died long ago. You, I have never known, nor loved."

Ganondorf's arm quavered, and the blurred outline of his head bowed toward the floor, his red hair brushing Impa's face.

His arm made a fast movement backwards. Impa did not brace for the blow.

Sheik heard himself screaming as Ganondorf's sword slid through the air and did not stop when it reached Impa's midsection, did not stop as the Sheikah woman was jerked backwards and came to rest as the hilt stopped the progress of both blade and body.

The sword was pulled free with a heartless wrench, and Impa fell forward. Her eyes met Sheik's as they emptied of light. A blue flash blinded Sheik as he continued to scream, followed shortly by a painful red blaze. He heard the screaming stop abruptly and wondered how he could be falling asleep when he had to help Impa.

_Sleep_, the voice told him again, and he could not fight back.

* * *

Far across the Hylian continent, two bodies stirred...

* * *

Stumbling up the final stairs, Avin cursed to himself and clutched the throbbing wound in his shoulder. He was bleeding again, but at least his ribs had mostly mended. He gratefully sucked in a long breath of cool nighttime air.

He looked around at the roof of the fortress, seeing it deserted but for a dead body. There was a thin clamor of noise from far below. He nervously edged toward the mountain wall out of which the hideout had been carved.

A few minutes passed with no sign of life but Avin's own loud breathing. Bird cries echoed in the distance. Somewhere nearby, a cricket chirped.

"This seems promising," he groaned quietly, smiling at his horrible fortune. No doubt whoever Impa had sent to meet him had been killed. He slid down the wall into a seated position, his legs too tired to hold him up.

He began to wonder about Sheik and Impa, and hoped the two were alright. A vague, absurd notion that he should venture down and check on them appeared and disappeared in his mind. He was too weak for that. He allowed his eyes to close and leaned his head back.

Whether he fought or resigned, he was going to die, and soon. The Gerudo would find him within the next ten minutes, and there'd be no saving him when they did. He chuckled humorlessly, then stopped as he thought of his wife.

"You can get along without me," he told the image of her in his mind, "You're strong."

But the imaginary Malon began to cry, and there was another face, a small face not unlike his, who was also crying. Avin thought he could feel his helplessness pouring over him.

Then a strong wind, too strong be mistaken for an illusion, blew Avin's sweat-soaked hair back. A slow, resonant rushing noise caused him to open his eyes.

"_Sweet Goddess!_" his mangled voice echoed loudly as he pressed himself against the wall.

Standing before him with its head tilted to the side was an owl easily twice his height. The great bird cooed at him, ruffling its feathers.

"Who-hoo sent you?" the bird asked.

Avin simply stared, realizing he must have died as he sat against the wall and that the beast could only be some messenger of the first hell.

The owl switched feet and turned its head impatiently about, "Quickly! Answer me!"

"Impa," stammered Avin.

"Good enough," the owl spread its huge wings, blocking the moonlight, "grab onto my leg."

"What?!"

"Quickly now!"

Telling himself he was dead anyway, Avin pushed himself up and shuffled forward. The owl made a quick movement and Avin was knocked into a sitting position on the bird's wide foot. The Hylian wrapped his good arm around the scaly leg and let out a moan of terror.

With several mighty flaps of its wings, the great bird lifted itself into the air, outstretched leg held stiff. Avin felt the world drop off beneath him after only a few more wingbeats, and held back a dry retch.

The Gerudo Valley was suddenly tiny beneath them, and the cold night was whipping against Avin's unprepared body. He began to shiver. As they passed quickly over Lake Hylia and out into the open air over the fields, Avin began to look expectantly for Lon Lon Ranch.

During the few minutes over the empty countryside, the owl said nothing, and Avin thought it wise not to speak. He was still unsure if he was dreaming or dead, and feared the idea of angering the huge bird who was keeping him alive. They were flying so swiftly that Avin could hear little but the howl of wind and the steady whistle of soaring.

Then again, when he saw the first peak of Lon Lon's silo over the crest of a hill, he could not help but shout, "There!" and laugh with senseless joy.

The owl turned its head toward him, "I think not. You need healing first-hoo."

"But I can be healed late---"

"No," the bird said firmly, pushing higher above the ranch and flying over it in a burst of speed.

Too tired to protest, Avin admitted to himself that he would in fact need someone to stop the bleeding in his shoulder, and potentially to cure what he suspected was an infected gouge just about his hip. He watched the flowing landscape beneath. It occurred to him for the first time that the owl carrying him was flying with unnatural speed, and he looked back at their progress. Tiny shards of yellow magic rippled behind them, shining as they hit the clouds.

"What are you?" Avin mumbled.

"I am an owl, sir," the bird replied shortly, much to Avin's shock, "but you may call me Kaepora Gaebora."

"Thank you," the Hylian said truthfully, and leaned his aching head against the thick leg beside him.

Kakariko Village appeared before them, obscured by low clouds.

"I will warn you-hoo," the owl said, "things are not as you left them."

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

As always, thanks for reading. If you're reading. I've stopped receiving feedback. :/ You guys alive out there?

If you're like me and have a list of "things to read on the internet" backed up, just let me know you're still reading. Otherwise the breaks between updates will suddenly become insanely long. Also, I PROMISE things look less bleak from here on. In the words of the great Michael Westen, sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better. :) Hope I haven't scared you all off!

Love, Littoria.


	15. Grace

AUTHOR'S NOTE (which you are probably not reading because who does?): I'm back! Here's an update! Sorry it took so long. Review if you're still alive out there, please... or if you're a zombie. I'm not picky.

So yes, here, a chapter. Quite.

* * *

The flash and the thunder woke up every resident of Kakariko Village. They rushed out the doorways of the windmill hut and the shooting gallery, emerging from their makeshift homes to see the spectacle.

The remnant of the flash was visible in the black sky, hovering over Castletown. The pale green light formed a halo over the destroyed city and pulsed gently, glazing over the stars as if they had no power. The light then flashed blue and red, and someone remarked that it had to be the Temple of Time.

A moment later, another shrieking boom echoed as lightning forked down above the market, making contact with the distant high steeple of the temple. Several villagers screamed as a plume of sparks and flame erupted from the holy building. The green light dissipated like rain and fell away. The fire calmed quickly, and the night was silent again.

The Hylians stood still for a long while, before eventually dismissing the event as just another bizarre effect of Ganondorf's reign.

A strange cry echoed through the air. One woman pointed again to the sky, where a great, winged shape was curving down over the village. As the bird grew closer, the villagers could see it was an owl, and that it's leg supported the slumping frame of a man.

* * *

_Wake up._

The strange voice called out in soft but urgent tones.

_You must awaken._

It seemed to him that he did not want to be awake at all, but that he should be sleeping for the rest of time. He was at first angry at the voice.

With anger came the sensation of closing his eyes tighter. He realized he could feel his face moving, and the soft flow of air as he breathed.

_Awaken!_

His eyes opened wide.

He saw the wooden beams beneath the ceiling, glanced over every cobweb and breathed in the dusty air with confusion. He gasped, as if he needed more than his lungs could give him. His mind told him that it was night.

Tentatively, he flexed his left hand. It was burning, and hurt to move. He wondered where he was and why his hand should hurt so much. Still disoriented, he attempted to sit up.

Just before the pain came the memory, brightly appearing in his consciousness as the sharp stinging ripped across his chest. He fell back down, slamming his head mightily against the table. His hand skittered over the wooden surface to hang limply from the edge.

He remembered dying. He remembered feeling the cold metal piercing his skin and Ganondorf's twisting smile. He coughed a little, bringing another rush of pain. The knowledge of his own death clouded his mind.

But he was alive.

The fear of death vanished and was instantly replaced by a thousand questions. He needed to move. He clenched his hand and focused on sitting up.

By leaning on one arm, he managed to make it halfway there. As he tried too hard to move forward, the burning pain returned, a hundred times worse than before. His whole body felt on fire, and he fell again with a guttural scream. His head lolled to the side as he began to cough. He tasted blood in the back of his mouth.

"No..." he said, though speaking felt like grinding metal in his throat, "... not... again..."

Then, mercifully, miraculously, the door across from him opened. He heard a gasp, then a sharp voice crying out.

"Mama! Mama, come quick! The Hero's alive!"

* * *

Zelda awoke to feel herself falling, but could not react in time to forestall a harsh landing on a stone floor. Her cheek scraped painfully across the rough-hewn blocks, and her eyes opened to a disorienting darkness. She wheezed in pain, feeling her face beginning to bleed.

Voices nearby were speaking loudly, but the sounds made no sense. Zelda blinked in their direction, able to make out shapes in the darkness. There were figures, shadowy in the firelight of a single torch. Their frames were obscured by thick bars.

"I'll let you deal with him for now," Ganondorf was saying, "I have other matters to attend to."

"Yes, my lord," came Nabooru's hushed reply.

"I trust," the king answered in a low voice, "you have an explanation as to why you followed me here."

"My lord, a scout saw _him_ traveling toward the fortress. I came hoping to forestall an attack. I am sorry I was... too late."

There was a short pause, then Ganondorf huffed in acceptance. He turned and vanished into the darkness, cloak rustling behind him. Nabooru gave quiet orders to her fellow Gerudo, who handed her the torch and bowed, taking her leave. Their footsteps faded into silence.

"You double-crossing bastard," Nabooru hissed, kneeling in front of the cell bars.

Sheik moaned and rolled onto his back, feeling hot tears welling in his eyes. An overwhelming sense of desolation twisted his stomach. Impa was dead. Link was long gone. There would be no escape this time.

"I helped you," Nabooru's voice was barely a whisper, but still rang of fury, "and you killed my sisters."

An empty smile stretched across Sheik's lips. So this was how Hyrule would fall. With all hope trapped in a tiny cage in the Gerudo desert. The absurdity was almost hilarious.

Outside the bars, Nabooru stood and pulled a keyring from its hook at her waist. Inserting a key into the lock before her, she chuckled darkly.

"I am going to enjoy killing you slowly, Sheikah," the Gerudo opened the door wide.

"Go ahead," Sheik muttered, "may it bring you joy."

Nabooru paused, disarmed.

Sheik laughed quietly, "I had to kill them. Just as your king had to kill Impa. None of us have a choice in the matter."

His laugh grew louder, crazed, and he threw back his head to let out a bestial roar. The sound dwindled in his throat, and he choked somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Another few tears burned across his bleeding cheek.

He was aware of the movement as Nabooru lunged, and did not fight as she pinned him to the ground. He stared blankly up at her furious face.

"Stop it," She commanded him, thrusting a short knife under his chin, "Do _not_ think I'll ever make the mistake of pitying you."

Sheik had no response, and did not care. He was deep inside himself, where he was Zelda. Zelda was thinking of Link and Impa and her father, and of a time she might see them again. She thought of her childhood, and of how young she felt. She looked on in defeated sorrow at the woman above her, who held death in her hand.

Something of Zelda's pain showed in Sheik's eyes as he looked carelessly upon Nabooru. The Gerudo woman's hand shook slightly.

"Stop," she repeated, taking a few short breaths.

Sheik closed his eyes, turning his head away from her. He felt her fingernails dig into his shoulder.

He heard Nabooru shout in wordless fury, and felt the rush of air as the knife raised and descended toward him. The point clinked into the ground. Nabooru let out a quiet groan.

Sheik opened his eyes to see the knife protruding from the stone an inch away from his face. Nabooru's hand still rested on the grip, quaking. Sheik looked up at her in distant curiosity.

The Gerudo's yellow eyes were weak. Her head fell forward.

"We... are not so different," she said slowly, "You're right."

Sheik opened his mouth slightly, about to respond. A stabbing pain in his left hand caused him to cry out instead. Nabooru gasped and leapt back, landing on her knees with her knife held aloft.

Sheik grasped his hand to his chest. A bright glow erupted from beneath the wrapping around his hand. The smell of singing fabric filled his nostrils as the triforce of wisdom illuminated the prison hall. The glow vanished suddenly, leaving Sheik to clutch his aching hand. He pushed himself up to look in terror toward Nabooru. Certain his identity would be revealed, he slid backward across the cell floor until his back made contact with the bars.

However, the Gerudo appeared only stunned. She was staring at the floor with a pained expression in wet eyes. Her hand fell to the ground, and the knife clanged free.

"You're... right..." Nabooru mumbled vaguely, still fixated on the place where her knife had fallen, "I... did not want... this war."

She had not seen the flash. A tiny hope lit in Sheik's mind.

"I..." Nabooru wiped her eyes, "was against him... after he changed. But he... broke me."

She looked up at Sheik for the first time, crawling toward him. He noticed a clarity about her face he had not seen before.

"He was too strong," she said earnestly, "like the voice who said 'sleep.' I tried to fight him, but he overcame me, and I---"

"What voice?"

Nabooru started as if shaken, then looked around wildly, as if unaware of her surroundings. Sheik pressed himself against the bars, fighting a strange urge to comfort the disoriented Gerudo.

She finally looked at him.

"... Sheik?" she asked in a small voice.

He waited.

"What have I done?"

* * *

"Well," the old witch was saying, "I suppose that's proof you're the Hero of Time."

Link closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

The events after his reawakening had been blurred and confusing. There had been a little girl, who went for help... but then there were two strong men carrying between them a younger man who looked half-dead, bloodied and beaten. They had called for aid upon finding Link alive.

Link remembered a tall, wide man pushing back a crowd, and the groans of the injured man as they set him on a counter opposite Link. Now the old potion shop witch was moving between Link and the other man, talking more to herself than to them.

"In any case, we're all very glad to see you alive, young man. Both of you."

Link felt her hand press gently into his shoulder as she lifted his torn tunic. The soft movement of air over his stomach and chest stung at his senses. There was a pause.

"Hmm," the witch muttered, "almost totally healed. Strong magic...yes..."

Without warning, she poured something freezing over the wound in his chest. Link gasped as his eyes flew open. He cringed, but the old woman held him down.

"Easy," she said softly, "let the potion do its work."

He took a few deep breaths, nodding against the biting cold. His chest began stinging, then burning, but Link clenched his jaw and remained silent, determined to outlast the pain.

The witch smiled sympathetically and turned away, tending to the other man. Link listened to their conversation, wanting to focus on anything but the sensation of knitting flesh beneath his ribcage.

"Avin," the witch was softly chiding, "what on earth happened to you?"

"Well..." rasped the man, "...Ganondorf happened."

The witch humored him with a chuckle and busied herself cutting away the remainder of his tunic, rubbing salve on his exposed skin.

"Where were you?" she continued.

"Poe hunting," he breathed laughter, "of... all things."

"Near their desert fortress?"

"Nnh... Goddesses, Gran... that hurts."

"Oh, hush. You've been through worse, I can tell."

He groaned but did not protest again. The potion shop went quiet.

Link stared hard at the wood ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts. He could not comprehend why he was still alive, so he attempted to put his death out of his mind. He would have to find his sword, and probably some new clothes. Then he would look for Navi. After that, there was Sheik to deal with. Sheik, who was the key to finding Zelda.

"Zelda," Link whispered in spite of himself.

"What's that?" called the old woman, moving stiffly to his side.

"Please," he swallowed back a rush of pain, "where is Sheik?"

The old woman blinked at him, then glanced around. She watched the closed front door for a moment, then leaned close to Link.

"He was in a bad way after you... well... He didn't talk to anyone for awhile, not even Impa. Then he up and left with that Gerudo general, Goddesses know why."

Link's blood chilled, "Nabooru?"

"Yes, her. But I trust him. He must know what he's doing."

She half-turned to check on her other patient. Her face became a mask of horror.

"Avin!" she hobbled away from Link, "Lie down!"

"I have to go home," Avin muttered.

"You have to _not die_, is what you have to do, you bullheaded---"

Link let their argument fade from his consciousness. He was more concerned with his next move. He was too weak to pursue Sheik deep into Gerudo territory, even if the burning in his chest had slowed to a gentle tingling. He still needed rest.

He closed his eyes, attempting to calm himself. The voices of the old woman and the young man wafted in and out of his mind.

"... no use you killing yourself over it," said the witch, "besides, Anju's there to care for her."

"Malon... needs me," Avin said.

"She can get along for now, just lie down and---"

Realizing what he'd heard, Link pushed himself up on his elbows, staring across the room at Avin's bruised face.

"You too?" the witch said in exasperation, "For the love of Farore, both of you, _rest!_"

Avin met Link's stare with some confusion, then seeming comprehension. He leaned heavily on one arm, peering at Link through his one open eye.

"You're Link," he said slowly.

"...Yes," the Hero answered.

"Malon's told me about you. We've met, I think," Avin continued, still speaking in a slow voice, "My name is Avin. This is--- was my potion shop."

Link's memory floated back to an exchange with another shopkeeper, one that seemed ancient to him. Abandoned shop, monsters got him, wife at home... baby on the way...

The recognition stunned Link into silence.

"I... understand you were friends," Avin said with a slight defensive air.

"We are," Link muttered, "Congratulations..."

After a pause, Avin coughed, "Thank you,"

"She's... and amazing woman," Link said around the tightness in his throat.

"I know."

Silence fell momentarily, and the witch took the opportunity to intercede.

"There, now that's settled," she snapped, "introductions done, you'll both lie down and rest before I give you sleeping draughts. Don't think I'm above it."

Link eased himself back down and turned his head away from the other man, who continued to make further protests. Link's mind went nearly blank.

He was happy for them, of course, but there was sadness as well, crawling its way up his spine. There was guilt --- he hadn't been there --- and there was jealousy. In the moment, he wanted their peace more than anything. He knew he could never have it.

But there was Zelda to think about. If he could find her, make sure she was safe, that would be enough. It would have to be enough. In the meantime, he would fight to protect everything Avin was now weakly pleading for.

He slipped into sleep, dreaming of the princess and a time he would finally see her smile.

* * *

Ganondorf watched somberly as Din flung the small vase across the room. It shattered against the opposite wall.

"You stupid man!" she was screaming at him, "You have ruined everything!"

They were in the king's private chamber, deep inside the hideout. Ganondorf was seated on the side of his grand bed, half-dressed. Din was pacing aimlessly around the room, occasionally throwing something or blasting it with her fiery magic.

"I thought you wanted Impa," the Gerudo king said calmly.

"As _my_ sacrifice, yes!" Din stopped in her pacing to whirl on him, taking a menacing step his way, "Not for _Nayru_!"

"I don't see the difference," Ganondorf admitted with little emotion. He was rubbing his hand absently. It had not stopped hurting since about an hour after Impa's death, when Din had appeared and caused the triforce mark to burn.

Din let out an animal groan, "If you had simply killed her, her soul would have been mine to command! But _you_, you had to tell her everything!"

"She's dead, isn't she?"

"A willing sacrifice! A soul that sent itself straight to my ignorant little sister!"

Ganondorf sighed, patience tested, "Either way, Farore had her sacrifice. What else is there?"

Din charged toward him, planting her hands on his knees and digging in sharp fingernails, "You have no idea what you have done, little host. By giving my sacrifice to Nayru, you have increased her power along with Farore's. We are weakened by comparison, you _fool!_"

The Gerudo king stared into Din's outraged eyes, then simply nodded, looking away. A distant thought occurred to him, and he glanced back down at Din's passionate face.

"What of the Hero?"

"...What?" Din released her grasp on his knees and stood up straight.

Ganondorf flexed his hand, "Will he be reborn?"

The thought seemed alien to Din, who answered with an enchanted expression, "No."

"No?"

She shook her head, long hair tangling itself in her large hoop earring.

"No," Ganondorf said again, reaching up to brush her hair free of the hoop, "And yet your sister Farore is alive and well."

Din smiled wolfishly, "The triforce of courage is without a host."

"Precisely," his hand cupped the curve of her neck.

She moved in close to him, between his legs. Her hands ran along his shoulders and down his wide chest. He grasped her by the arms, looking over her body with an expression of greed.

"Perhaps all is not lost, little chosen one," Din whispered, peering up at him enticingly through the curtain of her deep red hair, "We must trick Nayru into exposing her host."

Ganondorf watched her lips draw close, and leaned into her burning kiss. Her fingers raked through his hair and down the back of his neck.

For a phantom moment, he felt a different hand, cool and loving, brushing across his skin. He pushed Din back suddenly with a rough grasp around her wrists. She paused in total bewilderment. Ganondorf felt a fleeting hatred against her, and a deep pang of loss. He stared at her as if at a strange enemy.

Her eyes widened, then narrowed to mimic concern.

"Am I truly so awful?" she asked coaxingly.

The hatred melted immediately away as he remembered who he was, and what he wanted from his goddess. He let go of her wrists. She drew near to him again until he could feel her hot breath on his lips.

Din smiled with a small chuckle, and stepped up to balance on the footboard of the bed. She pushed Ganondorf back by the shoulders, and he allowed himself to fall onto the silken blankets. She followed him, pressing her body to his.

"Do not worry, little king," she whispered into his ear, "there will be no need to think of other things tonight."

Her skin was nearly burning him, but Ganondorf did nothing to divert her attention. Her power lulled him like wine. He closed his eyes as her lips traveled downward from his neck, banishing all thoughts of mortality with the rush of fire through his veins.


	16. A Mixed Blessing

Author's Crap:

HEY GUESS WHAT. An update. Sorry it took forever, but I wanted to have at least one chapter of buffer material before I posted, so there's that. Thanks for your patience... except Joe. Everyone except Joe.

Next chapter should be up next week. :)

Enjoy!

* * *

"What do you mean, gone?"

The sky was beginning to lighten as Sheik and Nabooru prepared to leave Gerudo Valley. Sheik stood as Nabooru unlocked his cell, a panicked look in her eyes.

"Lor- Ganondorf must have taken it with him," the Gerudo glanced around nervously, "it's gone from the armory."

Sheik was still unsure whether to trust the seemingly transformed Nabooru. She had said very little before departing to gather a bag of supplies along with Sheik's weapons. Sheik was surprised she had returned at all. He stepped out of the cell, eyeing the bundle in her hands.

"Why is it so important?" Nabooru asked meekly, handing him his belongings.

Sheik slid his knives back into their places at his wrists, "It might not be. Depends on whether he knows how to use it."

Nabooru nodded and said nothing more. Sheik glanced at her once again, attempting to identify the exact doubt clouding her eyes.

"You have not been seen? No one knows you're leaving?" Sheik stared hard at her.

"No. This way is best," her face was blank, "if they think you kidnapped me, Ganondorf will be forced to leave me for dead."

Sheik raised an eyebrow behind his cap, "Why wouldn't he come after you?"

"He believes me to be loyal until death, like all of his high-ranking soldiers," Nabooru half-smiled, "I am not worth recovering."

"Good. Ready?"

Sheik placed his hand over Nabooru's. He heard her sharp intake of breath just before his magic blinded them and pushed them into the wind. They hurtled over Hyrule as dawn illuminated the pink and blue sky.

They landed with a whirlwind just outside Kakariko Village, where two men worked to rebuild the charred banner over the path leading into town. One of them turned around to look down at the newcomers from the top of his ladder.

"Sheik!" he called, "You alright?"

The other workman paused in his task to face the conversation.

"Fine," Sheik answered, wary of the sudden weakness in his voice. He fought back images of Impa.

"What's _she_ here for?"

"I'll tell you later," Sheik said firmly, taking a protective step forward in front of Nabooru. The Gerudo shifted nervously behind him.

The worker shrugged and waved a hand at the path, "There's someone asking for you in town. Someone you're going to want to see."

He laughed at this, and his fellow carpenter joined in.

Sheik, in no mood for laughter, simply walked beneath the half-finished sign and up the stone steps. Nabooru followed close behind, speaking in a hushed voice.

"Who were they talking about?"

"I don't know," Sheik said honestly, "I imagine they mean Avin. Your former prisoner."

"Listen... I..." Nabooru stopped walking, "I'm sorry."

Sheik turned to look her in the eye, and was somewhat taken aback when he saw that she was crying. She suddenly appeared very young, though she was at least ten years his senior. She held a hand up to her eyes as the early sun grew bright.

"I wasn't..." she shook her head, red hair flying back and forth, "You haven't met me..."

"What?"

"I don't know what you did... but... in the fortress, I saw everything just as if I was going backwards and my life wasn't mine."

She wiped away tears, smiling wryly, "I didn't see it when it happened, but he changed me. I think... I could remember when he was a good man. And I was... good, too."

Sheik had no response but to watch her in utter confusion.

Nabooru laced her arms around her chest and held herself tightly, "You... woke me up."

"I'm... sorry," Sheik said slowly, "I don't understand."

"I never meant to become this," Nabooru continued as if she hadn't heard him, "but he was so strong, and took over my mind the same way the voice did, like I told you."

"The voice," Sheik repeated quietly, "What did it say to you?"

"Sleep," the Gerudo's face was dark for a moment, "I ran to help you and it sent me to sleep."

A chill ran through Sheik's veins. This was undoubtedly the same voice he had heard, the same gentle power that had prevented him from attacking Ganondorf. Hearing the echoes in his mind, he placed its familiar tone.

Nayru. The goddess herself had stayed his hand, and Nabooru's.

"But why?" he asked aloud.

"I... don't know," Nabooru took a deep breath, "but I just... I wanted to tell you, because-"

"Whatever happened to you, I was not part of it," Sheik lied. He watched her take in his statement. Her eyes darted to the ground.

Sheik considered her for a moment. He was fairly certain the power surge from the triforce had somehow broken whatever hold Ganondorf had had on Nabooru. He could not comprehend why, or how long it would last.

"Now," he said coldly, "we should go into town and-"

"I didn't mean to kill them!" Nabooru shouted at him.

When she looked up at him, there was a new passion on her face. It looked nothing like the spiteful rage to which he'd grown accustomed. He took a step toward her.

"I'm trying to tell you," her voice was soft, "that I'm on your side."

There was a pause. Sheik took the moment to examine her eyes, and the way she was holding herself like a lost child.

"Alright," he said with a slight nod.

He turned and continued up the steps into Kakariko. Nabooru followed him.

* * *

Link awoke in the early morning. He couldn't remember falling asleep. He rolled gingerly onto his side and looked across the room. Avin still slept on the other table. After a long glance at the other man, Link leaned on his arm and pushed himself up.

Sitting up brought aching muscles, but none of the fiery pain he remembered. He drew back the rough blanket from around his shoulders and looked down. There was a vertical scar at the bottom of his chest, stained blue by the witch's potion. He ran his fingers gently across it. It did not hurt.

He tested his legs, swinging them over the side of the table. He was still wearing his faded white pants over his bare feet. He moved his toes. They flexed and stretched obediently. Still wary, Link pushed off to stand. One knee buckled, and he was forced to grab onto the table edge to support himself.

"Come on, damn it," he muttered.

With some difficulty, he straightened his leg. He took a few jerky steps along the table, feeling as if he were walking in quicksand. Considering this good enough, he looked around. There was a pile of items on the floor. Someone had thought to leave him a borrowed tunic. Kneeling shakily, he grabbed the shirt and pulled it on. It had long sleeves, which Link was too exasperated to fasten around his wrists. He stood and stumbled toward the door, trying not to bump into anything lest he wake Avin.

The handle gave as he pushed the door open. He held up a hand to block the bright morning sunlight of the cloudless day. What he saw caused his heart to clench.

Kakariko had been decimated. Only three buildings stood intact, and the grassy commons had been burnt away into dirt. But there were scaffolds up around the remains of the houses, and people were rebuilding with what they had. A pile of newly felled trees occupied the space beside the well.

"Well, I'll be damned!"

Link had no time to turn before he was clasped strongly from behind. A crushing embrace lifted him slightly and pushed the air from his lungs.

"_Hrrk!_" he gasped, and was promptly released. He fell to the ground, groaning.

"Whoa, sorry 'bout that!" a giant hand extended toward him.

Leaning on the offered arm, Link stood up, staggering a little. Another hand clapped to his shoulder to steady him.

"I knew yeh'd make it!" a voice boomed, "He's a strong one, I said, like a bloody Goron!"

"Right," Link looked up into the oddly-proportioned face of the bazaar shopkeeper. The man was grinning down at him with childlike excitement.

"We ain't been introduced," the shopkeeper said eagerly, "or not properly anyway, but I remember yeh from the day that... er, the name's Domel, and I hope yeh're not too sore at me fer runnin' off on yeh-"

"No," Link extended a hand weakly, attempting a smile, "Link. Good to see you're alright."

Domel laughed, causing Link to wince as his ear rang, "Few Gerudos won't take me down. Not you either!"

"N-no," Link was looking around for an escape, "guess not."

His eyes roved across the town, surveying the damage and the number of people.

"Not bad, eh?" Domel asked, lowering his voice, "Not but a few casualties, too."

Link took a breath, "Do you know where I could find Sheik?"

Domel let out an explosive laugh, and Link jumped, turning to stare incredulously at the man.

"O' course I know!" Domel shouted, "He's right bleedin' there!"

The shopkeeper pointed toward a burnt tree stump near the path into town. Two figures were walking past it, one clad in white, the other in blue. As Link stared down at him, Sheik looked up. For a long moment, they stood, watching one another as neither moved. Sheik broke into a run and bolted up the stairs beneath. Link began walking as quickly as he could to meet him, hobbling down the stone steps.

A blue blur rushed up the corner of the stairway, and for the second time in five minutes Link had the breath knocked out of him. He stood, disoriented, as Sheik held him tightly. He returned his ally's embrace, beginning to chuckle and cough simultaneously.

Sheik pushed back and grasped Link by the shoulders, shaking him violently at arm's length.

"How?" Sheik yelled with uncharacteristic abandon, "How are you alive?"

"I don't know," Link said honestly, laughing a little, "Perks of being the Hero?"

Sheik paused to breathe heavily and stare piercingly at Link's face. Link returned the Sheikah's gaze, laughter fading as he saw pain in the man's eyes. Sheik was blinking away tears. His face and head were bloodied. Link looked awkwardly at the ground, embarrassed. Sheik moved slowly forward and hugged Link to him, pressing a fist against Link's back and hitting it gently.

"Don't you dare-" Sheik choked, "Don't you dare _ever_ try that again."

Link said nothing, staring past Sheik's shoulder. Gold hair brushed his cheek as they pulled apart. Link held Sheik's elbow a moment, then smiled. He clapped the Sheikah's forearm warmly.

"I think we should celebrate," Link said, looking from Sheik to Domel, "by taking a few hours _not_ to get ourselves killed."

Sheik chuckled, a nearly alien sound, "Agreed."

"I've got ale in the shop safe!" Domel shouted with extraordinary enthusiasm. He hurried off toward a lean-to where the Bazaar had stood.

"Besides," Link said quietly, looking from Sheik to the distant figure of Nabooru, "I'd say you owe me an explanation or two."

* * *

Bright daylight illuminated the floating dust in the Temple of Time, seeming to move as Nayru paced back and forth. Her blue hair was windblown and her dress was torn. She crossed her arms in frustration.

_Sister, please_, called Farore from her perch on the crumbling altar,_ It does you no good to worry like this._

Overnight, Farore had healed almost completely. Her green glow was not its brightest, but still lit the edges of her body and filled her eyes. She drew her legs up and closed her arms around them, watching her sister with a concerned face.

"I do not like this," Nayru stopped pacing and stared at a beaten wall, "If Din has not returned by now, we must assume she intends to fight us."

Farore accepted this with a nod, remaining silent.

"And I did not want to sacrifice Impa," Nayru's voice grew quiet, "Not like that."

_I know._

"I cannot understand it... Din was there! She felt the sacrifice, she has to know that you've returned..."

The goddess trailed off, resuming her previous path around the large room. Farore followed her movements thoughtfully, listening to the wind.

_Sister._

Nayru turned.

_It may be,_ Farore sighed, _that Din intends to bind her power to her host._

"But..." Nayru looked as if she'd been struck, "Why?"

Farore leapt down from the altar, taking a few steps in Nayru's direction. She watched the dust swirl.

_If she believes us to be weak, still, she will try to take the kingdom for herself._

"But if she binds her power- Sister, she could be killed!"

_I did not say it would be a wise decision._

Nayru leaned heavily against a wall, grasping her hair in frustration, "I cannot kill my sister, Farore. I could barely kill a mortal. My presence nearly led him to spare her."

_You must be strong. We should not need to kill Din, even if she does attempt to overthrow us. A simple trap might suffice._

"Perhaps," Nayru fought back sudden tears, "but if it does not, we will have to fight her."

Farore crossed her arms, glancing at her sister in concern, _You will have no choice. Do not allow your mortal form to interfere with your judgement._

Wiping at her cheeks, Nayru shook her head. She drew a deep breath before meeting Farore's gaze.

"I will do what is necessary."

_Good. It already appears Din will have her wish._

"Sister?" Nayru pushed herself away from the wall, eyes wide. Farore shrugged, sighing slightly.

_There is nothing to be done. Hyrule will burn before it is saved._

_

* * *

_

The day passed in a slow haze as the small company toured the wreckage of Kakariko. Sheik led them through the charred remnants of the town, occasionally stopping to allow Link time to rest. They circled the village and finally returned to the well. A curious crowd had gathered and Link had assured them he did not intend to die again.

As the sun set with an orange glow, Sheik insisted they retire to the hollowed shooting gallery for the ale Domel has promised. By late evening, they had drained half of it. Domel built a small fire in a hastily-made brick pit, and they sat near it in comfort. Nabooru had fallen asleep on a bench. Domel was seated across the room from the fire, staring at the flames.

Sheik sat near Link at the remains of a wooden table, his clay jar of ale balanced on his knee. Link, already considerably drunk, wiped sweat from his forehead with a sigh.

"You alright?" Sheik watched him.

"Fine. It hurts to walk, or turn quickly. But I'm fine."

Sheik nodded in acceptance, pulling down his cowl to take a sip of ale.

"Your people have done well holding on to this place," Link said, leaning slightly in Sheik's direction, "The village. I'm honestly impressed."

Sheik smiled, "It is their last safe haven. I would have been surprised if they'd given it up."

"Of course, they had help," Link mused, laughing, "I bet you and Impa were a frightening sight during the battle."

A chill and an empty feeling caused Sheik to lean back, jaw tight against the threat of tears.

"Where is Impa, anyway?" Link asked, "And don't try to convince me she's gone to the Sacred Realm, because I won't believe you."

"Alright."

Link waited for a moment, then gave Sheik a wary look, "Don't go Sheikah on me again and stop talking. I will hurt you."

Sheik looked away, "Impa... _has_ gone to the Sacred Realm, in the way we all do."

"What?"

"She's dead," Sheik said shortly, then took a long drink. When he looked back to Link, the Hero was staring blankly at him.

"How?"

"She went to rescue Avin from the desert fortress. Ganondorf... found her. I tried to help her, but..."

He broke off as words ceased to make sense. He vaguely felt Link's hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," Link was saying.

Sheik shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "I can't make sense of it. He threw me aside like a toy. I have never seen that kind of power. And Impa... just let him kill her-"

His voice cracked, and he closed his eyes to drive the image away. He felt a slight rush of air as Link moved to sit beside him.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the crackling of the fire and the eventual soft snoring of Domel. Sheik, realizing how close Link was, stood suddenly and paced in a slow circle. The Hero watched him do so, finishing his flagon of ale.

"Goddesses damn the whole thing," Link said finally, setting the empty jar down on the burnt floor, "I could... could've stopped this."

Sheik crossed his arms, "Stopped what?"

"The war," Link scratched a flushed cheek, "If I'd killed him then, instead of getting myself... and then Impa would be here."

Sighing, Sheik took a few steps closer, "You couldn't have killed him, he was far too strong. You're drunk."

"And Zelda..." Link groaned, pushing his hair back from his eyes, "she'll be... she must be so sad."

Link's expression was so pathetic that Sheik felt compelled to sit by him once more. Link sighed heavily and stared at the floor.

"Why," Sheik asked softly, "are you so concerned about her? More so than others, at least."

In response, Link stood and shuffled over to the crate containing the remaining ale. He brought over a new jar and opened it, pouring a liberal amount into the broken top of Sheik's small vessel.

"I don't know," Link admitted after a pause, "I just am."

Sheik waited.

Link addressed his feet, "I... it's that... I met her only a few times, when I was just a kid. But... you sometimes meet a person, and after that it doesn't matter how long you're apart, or how many changes either of you go through, you have to find that person. Because, even... even if you try to go on with your life, you know it's the same as being dead unless you can have that one person. Zelda is just..."

He paused to search for a word, "... she's sunlight. And every day I don't know where she is or if she's alright, or if she smiles anymore... Ah, hells, I'm sorry."

Sheik made an attempt to shake his head as Link grinned drunkenly.

"I sound like an idiot," Link muttered, chuckling to himself.

Unable to disguise the catch in his voice, Sheik made some vague excuse for himself and wandered outside. The night was silent but for a brave cricket. Edging around to the back of the building, Sheik allowed a moment of weakness and sat down on the dew-covered grass. He buried his face against his palms and let out a tense moan. His head began to hurt.

He heard soft footsteps and sighed, glancing up.

"Sheik?"

Nabooru's head leaned around the corner. Seeing he was alone, she moved quietly around him to sit inches from his side. There was a short quiet.

"Impa was your mother, wasn't she?" Nabooru asked in a whisper.

Sheik said nothing, not bothering to correct her. It might as well have been the truth. Nabooru held his hand briefly before staring out at the shell of the Skulltula house.

"We Gerudos understand about losing mothers. All our warriors are women, so we're raised to expect early deaths. It can't be made easy, though."

She leaned her head delicately against Sheik's shoulder. He accepted the gesture in silence, easing his head back to rest against the wall. Deep beneath Sheik's sadness, the small piece of Zelda that remained was losing her grip on herself. Her kingdom needed her to disappear, and Link needed her to love him. Sheik buried the thought and closed his eyes, too exhausted and inebriated to stay awake.


	17. Trivialities

So, you guys are used to ultra-late updates, right? Ehhh sorry. 3

* * *

Morning brought a few moments of waking peace for the Thief King. He stared up at the red silk canopy of his bed and was sure he had dreamt the past few days, perhaps even the last two years. A loud crash as his bedroom door was slammed open deprived him of the illusion.

"Wake up, little host!" Din ordered him loudly, "We have work to do!"

Ganondorf sat up, rubbing his temples and looking at Din in faint disgust. The goddess, clad in naught but a sheer nightdress, was smiling and holding something small and cloth-covered in her hands. Ganondorf stared pointedly at it until she unwrapped it.

A tiny, wooden ocarina rested in her palm. She held it as if it were made of gold.

"What were you planning to do with this?" she asked.

Ganondorf shrugged, throwing aside his sheets and standing, "I would have used it to contact the Hero and lure him in. It's fairly useless now."

Din laughed and moved forward, grasping the King by the arms, "Do you not see? What is important to the Hero is important to the girl."

"Zelda?" Ganondorf raised an eyebrow, "I doubt it. She's no fool. I took the ocarina from a poor farmer whom my excellent guards saw fit to lose."

"And?"

"And Zelda must know we have it. She'd never answer a song coming from her enemy."

"Augh," Din shoved him lightly and turned to pace the room, running her fingers across the ocarina as she walked, "You have no imagination."

Already gaining a headache, Ganondorf chose to ignore the goddess and instead focused on dressing himself. He'd pulled on pants and boots before Din strode over and steered him into a chair. He sat down and watched her darkly.

"Think, think," Din tapped his forehead, "what if she could believe someone _else_ had it?"

Ganondorf did not respond.

She leaned closer, "Someone like the Forest Sage herself?"

After a moment, Ganondorf allowed himself an incredulous chuckle, "How exactly? Are we going to kidnap a Sage?"

Din's smile widened into a grin. Her teeth gleamed in the sunlight. Ganondorf felt his stomach sink.

"You are joking."

"Oh, little king. You are so predictable."

She stood up and twirled to the opposite window, where she threw open the shutter to let a burst of sunlight into the room. Ganondorf shielded his eyes, squinting at her as she began to play the ocarina. A quick, cheerful melody echoed.

Din shot a smiling glance at her host, then clapped her hands in joy when a soft voice answered, _"Malon? It's Saria. Can you hear me?"_

In reply, Din's voice changed to a pleasant drawl which Ganondorf did not recognize, "Oh, Saria, it's awful. They burned us out and everyone's dead. We're trying to make it to the Lost Woods and we need your help!"

She glanced triumphantly at Ganondorf, who made a determined attempt not to let his mouth fall open in awe.

The eventual answer came with a green glow from the ocarina, _"I'll do what I can. Meet me outside the Forest Temple, I can protect you there."_

"Thank you! Thank you so much," Din said, then set the instrument down on the bed. It glowed green once more, then faded to its usual wooden dullness. She turned back to Ganondorf, nearly jumping in excitement.

Hand rubbing his beard, Ganondorf considered the woman before him. A crooked smile cut its way across his face.

"You are a wonder, my Goddess."

She nodded appreciatively, "We should dress and ride. To enter by magic would alert the woods to our presence."

Accepting this with silence, Ganondorf obediently pulled on a boot. Din snapped her fingers and her nightdress reshaped itself into a shirt and pants. She watched his slow, deliberate dressing with some disdain.

"We should talk, my host," she placed her hands on tan hips, "about our powers."

He paused in tying his sleeve, "_Our_ powers?"

"Come, I will explain as we travel."

* * *

Nursing an intense headache, Link spent a good part of the early morning purging the prior night's liquor. Several villagers stopped by to wish him well, or to jest about his condition. He was beginning to feel stable on his feet, leaning against the side of the old shooting gallery, when Sheik approached. Link gave him a half-hearted wave.

"I see you're still standing," Link joked, rubbing his eyes in the bright glare of the sun, "Where did you go?"

"To sleep," Sheik answered curtly, "as I see you did not."

"I did too," Link mumbled, "I just had to forget a few things."

"Could you?"

"No," the Hero shrugged, noticing for the first time that Sheik was holding a brown leather bag, "Is that mine?"

Sheik, fully dressed with a clean cowl once again covering his face, hefted the bag toward Link. Fumbling a little, Link caught and opened it. His familiar stock of small weapons, potions and food stared up at him.

"Where did you..." he began to ask.

"You handed it to one of the children before your battle. She held on to it."

Link nodded, a flash of memory bringing back the little girl's face and a wave of phantom pain. He rubbed his chest distractedly.

Sheik waited a moment before adding, "Your other weapons are still at the potion shop."

"Good..." Link ran his hand through his hair.

Sheik moved toward the stairs, and Link stumbled after him. After a few uneven steps, Link found he was able to walk. They made their way down to the village green.

"Sheik?" Link muttered, focusing on his boots, "Do you know where Navi went?"

The Sheikah paused to help Link up the first of the stairs to the potion shop, "No. But I might guess she went home."

Link nodded and leaned against the wall, somewhat embarrassed by his appearance. His muscles felt stiff and tired, and his legs were finally beginning to hurt again. Grunting softly, he pushed himself up the stairs. Sheik hung back, allowing the Hero to go ahead.

They reached the landing without incident, and Link took a moment to lean over, hands on his knees. Sensing Sheik beside him, he stood up and made a show of being confident.

"I'm fine," he said before Sheik could comment, "just tired."

He thought he saw the glint of a smile in the other man's eye, but the Sheikah simply nodded and gestured toward the shop door.

Link opened the door as quietly as possible, unsure whether Avin would be asleep. He was surprised to see the potion maker standing in the center of the room, leaning on a crutch and staring at the wrecked shelving behind the counter. Hearing the door, Avin turned to watch the two men with blackened eyes.

"Hero," he nodded, "Sheik."

"Uh, Link," the Hero answered, "It's just Link."

Avin gave a dull smile and glanced around the room, "They took everything. At least Gran managed to save a few fairies."

Link stepped gently into the shop, "I'm sorry."

"I know," Avin sighed, "At least the building's still standing."

Sheik slid into the room, brushing by Link to reach behind the counter. He pulled out Link's quiver and bow, setting them on the dusty surface before him. A bundle of cloth Link recognized as his sword followed soon after.

Link's eyes traveled back to Avin, "Will you be going home soon?"

"I can't," Avin's voice was bitter, "until I'm well enough to ride. All the wagons were destroyed. Even my little pony cart."

Link could think of nothing to say as Sheik brought over a bundle of clothes. Hesitantly looking away from Avin, Link took the pile of clothes and found a grey tunic not unlike his ruined Kokiri tunic. Beneath this was a jacket of chainmail and, miraculously, his familiar green hat.

"How...?" Link smiled from the hat to Sheik.

"I might have found it at the base of Death Mountain," Sheik said mysteriously.

Link chuckled as he pulled on the mail jacket. He retrieved his gauntlets and tunic, then placed his hat reverently on his head. Sheik handed him his belt.

"I have to go after Navi," Link explained, buckling the worn belt, "she needs to know I'm alright."

"Of course."

"Besides, I don't have a clue what Ganondorf's next move will be," he shrugged into his bag and looped his quiver over his shoulder.

Sheik crossed his arms, "I'll find out. I don't believe Nabooru has quite outlived her usefulness to him."

Link nodded, somewhat vexed, "You never did explain what she's doing here, or why she isn't trying to kill us."

"_What?"_ came Avin's voice. Link turned to look at him, already cringing.

Avin hobbled over to them, breathing heavily and clearly furious, "What in the hells is that monster doing here?"

Link drew a quick breath while Sheik held up his hands in a peaceful motion, "Wait, Avin, let me-"

"She did this to me!" Avin shouted, face turning red, "That _bitch_ is the reason I am trapped here and my wife is _alone_ out there!"

Sheik moved forward, palms open, "Ganondorf controlled her mind. She had no power over her actions."

"_Horseshit!"_ Avin shoved the Sheikah violently back with one hand, "She enjoyed it! I _saw_ her!"

Link placed a firm hand on Avin's shoulder, "So did I. But she's changed, and I've seen that too. She spent a good deal of last night trying to drink herself to death."

"Good," Avin spat, glaring at Link, "and you're both fools to believe she's any different. I know a mad dog when I see one. She's Ganondorf's whore and will be until she dies."

"That's enough," Sheik's voice cut like a dagger. Link glanced at the Sheikah to see a dangerous fury from his eyes.

Link spoke before anyone else could, "Alright, whether she's changed or not, she's valuable leverage. We need her alive, so that's that."

Avin snorted contemptuously but said nothing.

"Sheik," the Hero continued, "you and I should head out. And Avin, if you're well enough to hang on, I'll give you a ride to the ranch."

"What?" Avin looked hopeful for the first time.

Link broke the tension with a smile, "That is, if I can find my damn horse."

* * *

Nabooru watched the Hero lead the injured potion maker to the edge of the village. She stood in the shadow of a hill, obscured from view. The village seemed to fade around her. Her chest began to ache as she tried to forget capturing the young man, and laughing at him as he was dragged behind her horse. His terrified face burned through her memory.

"There you are," said a voice from inches behind her. She whirled, hands striking out toward the voice. A bandaged hand caught her fist easily.

"Sheik?" she blinked at him, lowering her guard.

He released her hand, "We should talk."

Gesturing for her to follow, he walked toward the stairs beneath the windmill. She ignored a nervous fluttering in her stomach and hurried after him, glancing around at the villagers as they worked. A few stared at her, but most seemed uninterested. At least they hadn't attacked her.

As she followed Sheik into the cool darkness of the windmill hut, she wondered at his calm. She thought she could feel the edges of her sanity fraying, and yet this Sheikah remained collected. He had barely grieved for his mother.

Sheik stepped lightly over the great turning wheel and sat down on a stone bench. Nabooru followed, seating herself beside him.

"The last few days have been hard for you," Sheik said, barely audible over the creaking windmill, "There are harder days ahead."

"I know," Nabooru looked down at her hands, which appeared to her small and frail. She folded them together.

Sheik sighed quietly, "I believe you, you know."

Nabooru looked up at him as he closed his eyes, lost in thought. She felt a smile at the edge of her lips. This boy was complicated. Only two days ago he had wanted her dead, and now he seemed concerned for her well-being.

"Thank you," she said, "at least someone does. I'm sure your people would like to see me burned alive."

"We can worry about them later. I am far more interested in what your people will think."

"They'll think I'm dead," Nabooru tented her fingers and let out a small breath of laughter, "until I come wandering home."

Sheik turned to look at her.

Nabooru licked her lips, which were suddenly dry, "I have a plan, of sorts. If I return to Ganondorf injured and desperate, he may believe I have good information about you."

"Injured," Sheik repeated sharply, leaning forward to look Nabooru in the eye.

"I'm sure you know a lot of people who could see to it."

"You could've asked Avin," Sheik snapped, "he would have done so happily."

There was a terse silence. Nabooru listened to the mill and considered her options.

"Well as he's gone..." she said slowly, "I may need to ask you for a favor."

"I may refuse," the Sheikah crossed his arms in displeasure, "your plan is both reckless and unsound."

Nabooru gave him an appraising look, flattered by his protectiveness. She rubbed her palms together, shaking her head with a quick grin.

"Sheikah," she laughed, "I'm a Gerudo. Reckless and unsound is the only way I do things."

* * *

Outside the village, Link helped Avin lean against a tree and dug through his belt pockets. He pulled out the Ocarina of Time, noting gratefully that it had not been damaged.

"What are you doing?" Avin asked curiously.

"Hoping the horse is within earshot," Link joked, then placed the ocarina against his lips. He played through the slow melody Malon had taught him as a boy. The last note echoed.

"She still sings that," Avin sighed, "her mother taught it to her before she died."

"I know," Link smiled at the potion maker, "she used to sing it all the time when we were kids. It's also the only sound Epona likes."

Avin hobbled closer, "You're the one she gave Epona to?"

"Hm?"

"She loved that mare," Avin regarded Link with a mix of jealousy and awe, "She said giving her away was like giving away her heart."

Link felt his cheeks darken, "Oh."

An accusatory pause caused Link to glance out at the hills. When he looked back to his companion, he was unsurprised to see Avin glowering at him.

"Look," Link said flatly, "whatever you're thinking, stop it."

Avin simply looked away. Link became aware of a distant sound, and jogged a few eager paces toward the fields.

"Come on, girl," he muttered to himself.

Over the crest of a hill, the outline of a tall horse came charging toward them. Link laughed aloud, recognizing Epona's gait. She cleared the field in moments and slowed to a trot as she neared them. Link strode forward to meet her.

Epona, however, nudged Link aside with her nose and pranced over to Avin, who steadied himself against the tree as she nuzzled his shoulder. The chestnut mare looked pointedly at Link, then continued sniffing and investigating the potion maker.

"Oh, thanks," Link said sarcastically, walking back to the tree, "it's good to see you too."

As he drew near, Epona thrust her nose into the air and shied away. She walked toward the edge of the Zora river and stood just above the bank, tossing her white mane.

Link sighed heavily, pressing the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

"You sure she's your horse?" Avin was grinning.

"She thinks I've been ignoring her," Link muttered into his hand.

Avin chuckled, then whistled sharply. Epona's ears twitched toward him. He whistled again and she walked obediently to him, skirting around Link. As she tried to bury her nose against Avin's neck, he pushed her toward Link. She snorted but allowed Link to step closer.

"Hey, girl," Link rubbed her nose lightly, "I wouldn't leave you."

He pulled pouch from his belt, opening it under Epona's nose. A few carrots lay inside.

"Go on," he urged. Her blue eye stared at him for a moment, before blinking as she thrust her muzzle into the bag. She finished the carrots and leaned toward Link, placing her neck against his head.

He patted her shoulder appreciatively and glanced from her bare back to Avin's bandaged leg and arm. Avin noticed his stare.

"I'll be fine," the man said defensively, "assuming you know how to ride."

"Fair enough," Link offered his hand. Avin took it, then leaned on it as he limped to Epona's side. Link knelt down and grasped Avin's good leg, lifting him onto the horse's back. Epona turned her head to eye Link with uncertainty.

"You can be mad at me later," he told her, and leapt up to sit behind Avin. Reaching around the other man, Link wrapped his fingers in Epona's mane and urged her forward.

At a gentle trot, they took an hour to reach Lon Lon Ranch. As Link pulled her to a stop just outside the door to the house, Epona let out an annoyed whinny. Link slid down and reached up to help Avin.

"Yeah, yeah," Avin gave Epona a gentle pat as he swung his good leg around, "I know I'm boring company."

Link eased the injured man to the ground and handed him his crutch. Avin regarded the Hero warmly.

"Thank you," he said softly as he caught his breath, "and I'm sorry about earlier."

Link shrugged, shaking Avin's hand, "It's alright."

"Oh, and..." Avin called as Link turned to go, "... there's another thing."

The Hero waited.

"I, uh..." the man watched the ground, "I managed to lose something of yours. The ocarina you gave to Malon. They took it away from me at the fortress."

A familiar sense of dread rang through Link's mind.

"That's alright," he lied, "I'm just glad you're alive. Will you tell Malon I say hello?"

"Sure," Avin smiled, apparently relieved.

"And... could I borrow a saddle and bridle?"

"Mine's on the far left," Avin nodded toward the stable and turned toward the door to the house, "Help yourself. Good luck."

"Thanks."

Link found himself struggling to pay attention as he wandered through the stable to the back room. He collected the gear and tacked up Epona with barely a thought. His mind was filled with images of Saria and her ocarina. If Ganondorf knew what he had, he could use it to enter the Forest Temple.

A clear image of Ganondorf finding the Kokiri Village brought Link back to the present. He had no magic, and was too weak to use it at any rate. He mounted Epona and pulled her quickly around. Overjoyed at the prospect of fast travel, Epona broke into a run.

"Careful, girl," Link called to her, "we'll have to ride all night."


	18. Promised Days

Sheik tapped a foot nervously as Nabooru waited for his response. He felt tired and old, and for a moment simply listened to the whistle of the breeze through the aged windmill.

"I don't want to be there when you do it," he said.

"Ah," Nabooru took a breath and let it out slowly, "I... was hoping you would help."

Sheik was taken by surprise, "_Help?_"

"If I falter. I thought... after all, you are a Sheikah..."

He awarded her a level stare, "I may be Sheikah, but I do not take pleasure in violence. Something your people would know little of."

"You are very quick to judge my people," snapped Nabooru, "for a man who has ended so many Gerudo lives."

"And you my people," Sheik's voice rose, "for one who supports a usurper king."

Nabooru's eyes were bright in fury, "I have never supported him. I fought alongside him and played the part of slave when necessary. I have protected my people, which is more than I can say fo-"

"You don't want to finish that sentence," Sheik stood up.

She seemed to consider it, then shrugged and glanced away.

"You're right," she said simply, "I don't."

Sheik's anger dissipated, but he did not rejoin Nabooru on the bench. Instead, he paced slowly around the hut, stepping around the great turning wheelbase. He circled the entire floor before returning to Nabooru's side. He stared down at her for a long while, while she evaded his gaze.

"I am afraid," she finally said.

"I know."

She tilted her head in his direction, "I've never..."

His hand found its way to her shoulder, "Never?"

"I've never hurt myself before. It sounds strange to say it."

Sheik was instantly ashamed to have been angry with her. As she rubbed her arm distractedly, it became apparent that she was little but a frightened and lost soul. He found he wanted nothing more than to protect her.

Her thin hand placed itself on his, and he tightened his grip on her shoulder.

"Death would be easier, wouldn't it?" she murmured, barely audible above the creaking of the mill.

"Death is always easier," Sheik released her shoulder and moved to kneel in front of her, "and unfortunately permanent."

"Mostly," Nabooru gave a half smile.

"Mostly. You have to promise me not to think about death."

She gave him an appraising look, "It seems to me that death is all we have. You and I know nothing else."

He was rendered speechless for a moment, watching her in stark concern. She reached a hand to his face. The backs of her fingers brushed his cheek, warm and soft, and he turned away from them. Nabooru withdrew her hand and smiled.

"Like I said," she resumed the nervous rubbing of her arm, "nothing else."

Sheik stared at the floor between the Gerudo's feet, "Regardless, I'd prefer it if you could come back alive."

"So would I."

"That's good."

"It's the pain I'm afraid of," her expression was dark, "Gerudo are not supposed to admit that. I'm not sure I can do it myself."

Sheik shook his head slowly, "Nabooru, I would do anything to help you right now, except that. _I know_ I won't be able to."

Nabooru stared at him for a short while. Finally, Sheik sighed and stood up, folding his arms over his chest, "Would it help if I walked with you as far as the river?"

She nodded and rose, face turning pale. As she walked to the door, Sheik watched the sway of her red hair and the movement of her shoulders. A nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach forced him to follow close behind.

* * *

The day flowed quickly as Din and Ganondorf rode across the plains, skirting the Western desert. They reached the pass to the Gerudo lands by nightfall, stopping just before the valley to rest. The setting sun cast their shadows across the dusty rock walls. Din cleared a small amount of sand and held her hands over the ground. A small fire, unnaturally red, appeared and hovered in the shallow pit. Pleased, the goddess sat down on the ground and gestured to Ganondorf to join her.

"It's still early," the king protested, "we should ride on."

"I will take us where we need to go," Din waved a hand at him, "sit and rest, you are still mortal."

"You claimed magic would give us away."

"Not this close to our goal: the echo will be much smaller."

Ganondorf sat down, frowning. Nearby crickets went silent, and the wind and fire made the only sounds. Din slid close to him, laying a thin hand across his arm.

"I mentioned a discussion about our power. Would you be interested in having it now?"

Ganondorf nodded.

She brushed her hand over his breastplate, undoing the buckles and pulling the heavy armor off. Her hand pushed aside the neck of his tunic to rest on his bare skin.

He raised an eyebrow at her as she gazed at him.

"Little king, you could have more than this" the remaining orange sunlight was caught in her hair, causing the red strands to glow, "you could have a power even greater than that of my triforce piece."

"Oh?" Ganondorf was distracted by the heat of her fingers across his chest.

"What would you do for the power to claim the true Triforce?" her eyes were inviting, "anything?"

This captured his attention. He leaned back slightly, considering her integrity.

"Anything," he answered firmly.

Din smiled, pulling closer to him until she knelt over his leg and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her nose brushed his, but he was undaunted. His hands gripped her waist tightly.

"_Anything,_" he repeated.

Her eyes were suddenly sharp, "even give away your own soul?"

"... What?"

She saw the flicker of doubt across his face, and pulled back, standing up. She paced around the fire, arms crossed. The sun disappeared behind the red hills.

"What do you mean, my soul?" Ganondorf demanded, skeptical.

Din chuckled coldly, "You are under the impression that essences and ghosts are nothing more than superstition. You are incorrect."

"Alright..." Ganondorf played with an open buckle, "if I believe you, from what I recall a soul is a necessary thing. I would die without it."

"Well, yes!" Din laughed and danced over to him, standing over him with a manic expression, "That is why I would take only a piece of your soul for the binding."

"The binding."

"Your books and scrolls do not tell of it," she was excited by now, "but there is an ancient process by which mortal and deity may be one. We would share your body and my power, and no magic would be greater."

The full weight of the proposal struck Ganondorf like a welcome slap. He could harness the power of a goddess and crush the remains of Hyrule within weeks. He would find Zelda, obtain the Triforce and then... he struggled to remember what came next. It had been so many years since he had felt this close to total victory.

"I could rule," he murmured aloud.

"Yes," Din hissed, "you could do what you were born to do."

She stepped closer and placed a finger under his chin, lifting his face, "Restore the Triforce to me and I will give you Hyrule. We will reign over both realms."

Ganondorf grasped her hand, allowing the slightest smile. They had the same goals. He would agree to her scheme now and later find a way to claim the Triforce for himself. In the meantime, Din was giving him everything he wanted.

"How do you perform this binding?"

* * *

The early rosy sunrise brightened the road for the lone rider at the edge of the forest. Link had slowed Epona to a walk an hour before, and she was still sweaty and tired. By the time they'd found the hidden entrance to the Kokiri woods, the mare was snorting and neighing in protest. Exhausted, Link slid from the saddle and nearly collapsed. He patted Epona on the neck, digging an apple from his bag and holding it out for her.

"You earned it," he leaned against the horse's shoulder as she ate.

Catching his breath, Link took a long look up and down the forest's edge. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, and there was no sign of Ganondorf's presence.

"Good girl," Link allowed Epona to take the core of the apple and grasped her bridle, "come on."

She snorted in displeasure, expecting his next command.

"Come on, you can't stay here," he ran a hand down her neck, "they'll see you."

She sidestepped, causing Link to stumble. He righted himself in time to see her trot off across the countryside toward Lake Hylia, apparently pleased with herself.

"Fine," he breathed. He turned around and faced the hollow end of an overturned tree, the portal to his childhood home. He was somewhat surprised he could still see it, as the tree rarely ever showed itself to Hylians. Reflecting on the past night, he wondered how he could have overtaken the Thief King. A dark notion crawled into his mind that he was far too late, and Ganondorf had already entered the woods.

Pushing the thought away, he walked slowly toward the portal, peering into its pitch blackness. He could not see the forest within, and gave a small prayer of thanks that the protective magic had apparently not been disturbed. As he reached the great tree's reaching roots, he lifted a hand. It was absorbed by the dark shadow of the portal.

"Here goes," he muttered, stepping boldly forward. He continued walking, for a moment through total darkness, until he could see the dim sunlight of the woods beaming down in dusty shafts. A wooden bridge appeared out of the shadows, and Link found himself fully immersed in the Lost Woods. A faraway bird called out in the peeping of frogs. The spongy moss beneath his feet gave slightly as he stepped onto the bridge.

The place was barely different than he remembered it. A few trees had changed places, and the grassy forest floor was maybe a little more brown, but the woods were essentially unchanged. Link strode lightly across the small bridge, warmed by patches of sun on the old wood planks. His boot heels clicked against the aged boards.

He believed himself to be alone, as no voice called out and no singing signaled the presence of stalkids. He was thinking of the quickest route to the sanctuary when his previous impression was loudly proved wrong.

"Hey! You! What do you think you're doing here?!"

Link stopped halfway across the bridge, looking around for the source of the familiar, childish voice. An old sensation of annoyance permeated his thoughts, recalling hundreds of ruined evenings and childhood fist fights.

"These woods are sacred! Hylians are not allowed without permission!"

Link lifted his hands in the air in a gesture of submission, "I'm not here to do any harm. I need to see Saria."

He made a slight grimace in anticipation of the reply. Sure enough, a Kokiri boy leapt down from the trees and landed on the bridge before him, scowling and furious. Link immediately recognized his red hair and flushed face.

"Saria?!" the boy yelled, "What would a Hylian ever want with Saria?!"

"I-"

"No! I won't allow you to go any further!" The boy stomped his foot, causing his fairy to fly from his shoulder to the bridge behind him, "I, Mido, the great leader of the Kokiri, will never allow you past this bridge!"

Link stifled a smile, "Never?"

"Never!"

"Alright."

Mido was clearly unprepared for this, "What?"

"You win," Link shrugged and seated himself on the bridge, now eye-level with Mido, "I'll just sit right here."

The Kokiri's jaw worked, his bright blue eyes clouding with confusion, "What, forever?"

"Sure. Forever," grinned Link, "since you'll never let me pass."

"F-fine!" Mido shouted, "If that's what it takes to protect Saria!"

Link was a bit taken aback by this, and tilted his head inquisitively, "What makes you think you need to protect her from me?"

Mido eyed the Master Sword with some concern. A distant memory returned to Link and he immediately felt ashamed. The Kokiri were peaceful people, and used weapons only for protection in dire circumstances. Of course Mido wouldn't trust a sword-carrying stranger.

"Ah," Link unbuckled his scabbard and pulled it off, holding the sheathed sword at arm's length, "is this what you're afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything."

Link bit back a sigh, "Is this why you're afraid for Saria?"

Mido's jaw shifted again, "Maybe. Maybe I don't like how you look."

"You care about Saria a lot, don't you?"

The Kokiri's face was stony, "More than anything."

For the first time in his entire life, Link believed Mido was telling the truth. He rubbed his scratchy chin, skin dry under a few days' worth of stubble.

"Listen, Mido, I care about Saria very much. There's a man out there who wants to hurt her, maybe even kill her," his throat closed a bit as he said the words, "I'm trying to warn her."

Mido was evidently conflicted, as he tapped his foot repeatedly and looked from one side of the bridge from another.

Link held up his sword again, "If it makes you feel better, you can hold on to this."

His face wearing an expression of suspicion, Mido reached out a small hand and grasped the strap. Link released his hold and Mido stumbled a bit to maintain his grip. He took hold of the the scabbard and hefted it over on shoulder.

"Alright," snapped the Kokiri, "I'll take you to her. But if you try anything, I'll beat you up."

Link stood up, twice the height of his obstinate guide, "That's a deal."

They shook hands, and Mido turned to face the forest. He led the way in confident strides, Link following after with an uneasy feeling. There was no guarantee he would make it to Saria before Ganondorf. He could only hope Mido would not lead him astray.

* * *

The morning breeze brought the fist sting of autumn as Sheik and Nabooru made their way down the hill beneath Kakariko. The day was silent but for the wind, which began to howl as the two reached the flat fields separating the village from the rest of Hyrule. They walked at a brisk pace and did not speak.

Sheik allowed Nabooru to lead the way, as she had claimed to know the places where the Gerudo sentries in the fields would not see her. His mind buzzed with worry. Any trace of the ruthless fighter within Nabooru had vanished, replaced by a hesitant gait and tense posture. She looked nervously around as they traversed the flats. Ahead, the river wound across the countryside, a blue ribbon partially illuminated by the sun.

As she walked, Nabooru began to take off her golden adornments, handing each bejeweled trinket to Sheik. He carried them reverently, glancing from the glinting bracelets to the Gerudo before him. Her expression was blank.

"They will be more likely to believe me," she explained unnecessarily.

Sheik nodded, suppressing a desire to tell her that there was another way, any other way, to carry out their plans. There was not, of course, and Sheik gave a short sigh as Nabooru pulled the gold and shell clip from her hair. The red locks rushed down in a wave, and the Gerudo tucked the fringes of her hair behind her ear as she handed the bauble to Sheik.

Another few moments of silence brought them to the edge of the river, where the ground grew soft and wet. Nabooru knelt down in the mud, allowing it to seep into her thin pants at the shins. Sheik reached out an arm and pulled her back up with a bit more force than he meant to. She looked at him in confusion.

"I'm sorry," he stared down at her knees, "it just... seemed too much."

Nabooru let her lips curl in a tiny smile, "This is too much? The cheap theatrics, not the actual danger?"

Sheik allowed himself to look straight into Nabooru's golden eyes, "This entire plan is too much."

She reached out a hand, touching his arm lightly, "It's the best I can do."

The wind picked up, sending Nabooru's red hair flying and the edges of Sheik's cowl loose. Neither made any motion to remedy these changes. Nabooru stepped closer.

"If you're going to do it," Sheik said gently, "It should be now. We'll be seen."

She nodded, looking at the ground. Sheik found himself completely disarmed. With her hair down and all traces of her elevated status gone, the Gerudo for once appeared totally calm. There was no panic in her eyes, and her shoulders had relaxed.

"May I borrow one of your knives?" she extended her hand.

Sheik let one of his concealed blades slide into his palm. He made no move to relinquish it, however, and let it hang at his side as he evaluated the woman before him. Seeing his expression, she smiled a little and closed the space between them, her arms pulling him close and her head resting against his shoulder. He felt the warmth of her skin through the fabric of his faded uniform. Taking a deep breath, Sheik let his lips rest against her soft hair.

"You can't do this," he murmured, one hand tracing the back of her neck.

"No," she turned her face to his chest.

"You never could have."

"No."

His eyes scanned the fields aimlessly, "Alright."

In a swift, careful motion, Sheik pressed his palm to the exposed skin just above her hip. She shuddered as the blade entered her body, stifling a moan in his cowl. Feeling his wrist wet with blood, Sheik kissed Nabooru's forehead and pulled himself away. She stumbled to the ground, hand clumsily covering the bleeding wound.

"Thank you," she choked, a fast smile on her lips.

Sheik gave himself one more moment to watch her before summoning a spell to take him away. As the Hylian countryside faded, replaced by the bright sand of the desert, he thought he heard her call his name. He closed his eyes and focused on his mission.


End file.
